UPTHE 

, :  ;  •  T  B 


" 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


UP  THE  GRADE 


rf 


/  will  go  -with  you"  he  answered,  "  and  do  my  best.11 


Up  the  Grade 


BY 


DAVID  W.  EDWARDS 


THE  C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

BOSTON  MDCCCCIX 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1909 

BY 

THE  C.  M.  CLARK  PUBLISHING  Co. 

BOSTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 

u.  s.  A. 

All  Rights  Reserved 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  THE  BADGER  BOY 1 

II.  THE  BELDEN  FARM 7 

III.  REVENGE 13 

IV.  SUNDAY  AT  THE  FARM 19 

V.   A  VILLAINOUS  PLOT 22 

VI.  ANNIE  REESE 33 

VII.   His  MOTHER 51 

VIII.  THE  "  SILENT  ORACLE  " 60 

IX.   "WILD  OATS" 73 

X.   "UNCLE  NATE" 79 

XI.   DISTRUST 85 

XII.   DOCTOR  HASKELL 90 

XIII.  DANGER 102 

XIV.  QUEENLY  DIGNITY 107 

XV.   PERSECUTION   110 

XVI.   "THE  BINDERS" 113 

XVII.  THE  BATTLE 118 

XVIII.   THE  CLOUD  LIFTED 128 

XIX.   SHADOWED 135 

XX.   GOING  HOME   145 

XXI.   THE  WHITE  CAP 157 

XXII.   THE  ULTIMATUM 162 

XXIII.   WORKING  His  WAY..  167 


CONTENTS  —  Continued 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXIV.  THE  WARBURTON  MANSION 172 

XXV.  THE  ATHLETE 179 

XXVI.  THE  BOATMAN  OUTWITTED 184 

XXVII.  THE  FIVE  HORSEMEN 199 

XXVIII.  Two  "CATTLE  KINGS"  MEET 205 

XXIX.   BOB'S  STORY 210 

XXX.  JOHN  CLOVERDALE 219 

XXXI.  THE  RAINBOW  IN  THE  SIERRAS 227 

XXXII.   ROSALIND    241 

XXXIII.  "!F  HE  COULD  ONLY  KNOW" 253 

XXXIV.  A  NEW  EXPERIENCE 263 

XXXV.  THE  MUSICAL  CONVENTION 277 

XXXVI.  THE  BARRIER 286 

XXXVII.   MR.  YALE'S  VISIT 296 

XXXVIII.  A  CHERISHED  HOPE 301 

XXXIX.  THE  SCHEMING  MOTHER 310 

XL.  AT  DEATH'S  DOOR 320 

XLI.  THE  MOUNTAIN  PASS 337 

XLII.   "Up  THE  GRADE" 344 

XLIII.  THE  EYRIE 357 

XLIV.   RICHARD'S  TRIBUTE 367 

XLV.   HE  HAD  DECIDED 375 

XLVI.  THE  GRAND  CONCERT 387 

XLVII.  CONCLUSION                                    ..  395 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

"I    WILL   GO   WITH    YOU,"    HE    ANSWERED,    "AND 

DO  MY  BEST" Frontispiece 

PAGE 

THE   CHURCH   WAS  WELL  FILLED  WHEN   RlCHARD 

AND   HIS   MOTHER    ENTERED 48 

HE   AIMED   A   BLOW   AT   RlCHARD 123 

"  THIS   IS   ON   THE   RANCH,  ISN?T  IT?  " 246 

THE  CROWD  RUSHED  AROUND  THEM  AND  TRIED  TO 

EXPLAIN  TO  THE  OFFICER     270 

THE   CARRIAGE   STOPPED   BEFORE   AN   OLD,  HOME 
LIKE   RESIDENCE.  393 


Affectionately  dedicated  to 
the  wife  of  my  youth,  and  our 
precious  children,  whose  young 
lives  were  guided  by  her  prayers, 
precepts  and  example. 


prefatory  Note 

THESE  words  were  mostly  penned  during 
hours  of  wakefulness,  between    10  P.  M. 
and  4  A.  M.,  after   days   spent  in  the  storm 
center  of  business  life. 

The  incidents  herein  related  are  taken  from 
the  personal  experience  and  observation  of  the 
writer,  whose  life  has  slipped  well  past  its 
meridian,  with  its  unimproved  opportunities, 
its  many  failures  and  few  victories. 

In  his  feeble  effort  to  faithfully  portray  the 
dangers  which  meet  all  men  at  the  threshold  of 
life,  and  point  the  only  way  to  overcome  them, 
he  has  written  down  the  words  which  came 
to  him  in  the  silent  hours,  when  alone  with 
the  Infinite.  He  would  make  no  greater  wish 
than  that  the  reading  may  prove  as  great  a 
blessing  to  the  reader,  as  has  the  writing  to 

THE  WRITER. 

Bimini  Springs, 
Los  Angeles,  Col. 


UP  THE  GRADE 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  BADGER  BOY 

MR.  STEVEN  HENRY  BELDEN  and  his  friend 
Judge  Densmore  were  seated  under  one  of 
the  large  natural  oaks  in  the  front  yard  of 
an  old  Wisconsin  homestead. 

Their  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a 
half  scream  and  the  sight  of  a  cloud  of  dust 
down  the  road.  Running  hurriedly  to  the 
gate,  they  saw  a  horse  plunging  furiously,  the 
saddle  hanging  by  his  side,  the  rider  clinging 
pluckily,  one  hand  grasping  the  horse's  mane 
and  the  other  holding  to  one  rein,  drawing 
the  head  of  the  spirited  animal  so  as  to  keep 
him  moving  in  a  circle  while  kicking  and 
lunging  in  frantic  efforts  to  rid  himself  of  his 
fair  burden.  The  situation  was  so  appallingly 
threatening  to  the  life  of  the  young  lady  that 

1 


2  UP  THE  GRADE 

for  a  moment  the  gentlemen  looked  on  help 
lessly.  In  that  moment  of  hesitation  a  young 
man  vaulted  the  fence,  and,  before  they  had 
gathered  their  scattered  wits,  had  the  animal 
in  hand  and  proceeded  coolly  to  replace  the 
saddle  and  cinch  it  firmly  in  place;  while  she 
hastily  and  nervously  adjusted  her  raiment, 
which  had  become  seriously  disarranged  in 
the  mix-up,  gathered  up  her  long  braids  of 
golden  hair  in  a  tangled  mass  that  gave  to  her 
flushed  cheeks  and  blue  eyes  a  touch  of  blond 
beauty  far  more  becoming  than  could  have 
been  produced  by  the  artifice  of  the  most 
skilled  hairdresser. 

During  the  brief  period, — scarcely  longer 
than  the  telling, — her  rescuer  had  not  spoken 
or  apparently  noticed  her;  nor  did  he  make 
reply  when  he  lifted  her  to  the  saddle  and  she 
blushingly  attempted  to  thank  him,  other 
than  simply  raise  his  hat  with  an  air  which 
seemed  to  say:  "Not  worth  mentioning." 
He  watched  her  for  a  moment  as  she  galloped 
away,  then  returned  to  his  work  in  the  field 
near  by,  springing  over  the  fence  almost  as 
lightly  as  he  had  a  moment  before. 

As  the  gentlemen  turned  toward  the  rustic 


UP  THE  GRADE  3 

chairs  which  they  had  just  vacated,  Judge 
Densmore  broke  out  enthusiastically :  "  Steve, 
that  hired  man  of  yours  is  a  thoroughbred!" 

He  received  no  answer,  and  they  resumed 
their  seats  and  their  conversation. 

The  shadows  of  the  old  oaks  which  were 
scattered  over  the  grass  plot  crept  lazily  along 
before  the  descending  sun  and  embroidered 
themselves  in  a  lacework  of  oaken  leaves  along 
the  whitewashed  fence;  a  group  of  children 
coming  up  from  the  borders  of  the  moist 
meadowland  with  baskets  of  wild  strawberries 
went  shouting  down  the  road  toward  a  long 
bridge  which  spans  the  marshy  border  of  a 
mill  pond;  Mr.  Belden's  "hired  man"  drove  a 
fine  "team  of  blacks"  up  to  the  barn,  unhitched 
them,  calling  each  by  name  as  he  patted  their 
arched  necks,  and  left  them  at  their  well-filled 
manger. 

He  was  slightly  above  medium  height, 
deep-chested,  broad-shouldered,  and  of  so 
perfect  a  muscular  development  as  to  give  that 
powerful  yet  easy  movement  which  denotes 
tremendous  reserve  strength.  His  eyebrows 
and  long  lashes — almost  black — gave  an  un 
usual  but  pleasing  contrast  to  the  full,  deep 


4  UP  THE  GRADE 

blue  eyes  which  had  an  expression  of  tender 
gentleness  that  would  gain  the  confidence  of 
a  child.  His  face  might  have  been  taken  for 
one  which  lacked  firmness  and  strength  of 
character  but  for  the  deep-set  lower  jaw, 
broad  chin,  and  rather  thin  lips  which,  when 
parting  in  a  pleasing  smile,  revealed  a  set  of 
strong  white  teeth  that  slightly  inclined  in 
ward.  His  bare  sunbrowned  arms  and  cal 
loused  hands  gave  evidence  that  his  physical 
perfection  had  been  earned  in  the  field  of 
honest  toil  rather  than  the  college  gymnasium. 
As  he  moved  from  place  to  place,  doing  quickly 
but  thoroughly  his  evening  work,  he  came  to 
an  apartment  furnished  with  great  care  and 
fitted  with  every  convenience  for  the  comfort 
and  safety  of  its  occupant.  The  walls  were 
decorated  with  posters,  pictures  and  clippings 
setting  forth  the  wonderful  exploits  of  "  Maid 
of  the  West."  A  beautiful  sorrel  mare 
stretched  her  neck  over  the  box  stall  and 
called  to  him  with  almost  human  intelligence. 
"Hello,  Maid,  you  are  glad  to  see  me,  are 
you?"  he  said,  as  he  stroked  her  silken  mane 
while  she  laid  her  head  on  his  shoulder  in 
great  friendliness. 


UP  THE  GRADE  5 

"  You  would  be  glad  to  go  with  me  tonight, 
I  know  you  would.  You  would  shorten  the 
road,  wouldn't  you?" 

A  woman  with  red  hair  and  a  sunbonnet, 
who  was  passing  with  a  well-filled  basket  of 
eggs,  hearing  his  voice,  paused  for  a  moment 
listening  to  his  words;  then  passing  on  un 
noticed  by  him,  called  back  in  a  kindly  tone : 
"  I  will  have  your  supper  ready  in  a  few  min 
utes,  Richard."  i  v  i 

His  work  finished,  he  walked  toward  the 
house;  stopping  for  a  moment  he  turned  his 
gaze  across  a  long  stretch  of  prairie  land  to 
ward  wooded  hilltops  in  the  distance.  A 
smile  lit  up  his  face.  Unconsciously  he  had 
struck  a  pose  worthy  of  the  brush  of  the  great 
masters,  for  under  the  painting  might  have 
been  written  the  words  of  the  writer  of  sacred 
history,  who  said  of  the  son  of  Jesse :  "  He  was 
withal  of  a  beautiful  countenance  and  goodly 
to  look  to."  Richard  Williams,  our  "Badger 
Boy,"  was  all  this  and  more.  We  say  "boy" 
not  in  the  juvenile  sense,  but  with  a  tender 
solicitude  for  one  who  has  so  much  of  life  yet 
before  him  with  its  possibilities,  shadowed 
by  the  adverse  influences  which  meet  all  men 


6  UP  THE  GRADE 

at  the  threshold  of  life  and  lurk  along  their 
pathway. 

The  imp  of  appetite,  or  temper,  or  greed, 
or  lust,  or  pugilism,  who  can  compass  his 
destruction,  will  be  given  a  royal  banquet  in 
Hades. 

We  must  leave  him  for  the  present  and 
further  investigate  these  interesting  premises 
known  as  the  old  Belden  Farm,  where  we 
shall  soon  see  how  he  becomes  the  target  for 
the  arrows  of  venom,  hatred  and  long-smolder 
ing  revenge  in  the  hands  of  an  insidious  foe 
who  wears  the  smiling  mask  of  friendship. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  BELDEN  FARM 

THE  old  farmhouse,  despite  numerous  re- 
modelings  and  attempts  at  modernizing, 
still  shows  some  of  the  plainness  of  the 
pioneer's  habitation  visible  through  its  angles. 
This,  however,  adds  to,  rather  than  detracts 
from  its  air  of  comfortable  coziness. 

Mr.  Steven  Henry  Belden  was  the  owner  of 
the  farm,  and  the  other,  his  most  confidential 
friend,  "Judge"  Henry  J.  Densmore,  the  title 
having  been  conferred  upon  him  by  his  asso 
ciates,  who  years  before  had  found  him  an 
efficient  referee  in  affairs  which  would  hardly 
lend  honor  or  dignity  to  the  wearer. 

Mr.  Belden  was  a  man  approaching  middle 
life,  of  unusually  prepossessing  appearance; 
a  stranger — unless  an  adept  in  character 
reading — would  at  once  have  pronounced 
him  a  prince  of  good  fellows.  He  was  tall, 
with  quick  but  graceful  movements,  dark 
hair,  a  heavy,  drooping  black  moustache,  and 

7 


8  UP  THE  GRADE 

black  eyes.     He  was  usually  dressed  in  a  suit 
of  black,  cut  in  the  latest  style. 

His  companion,  who  was  a  few  years  older, 
was  quite  the  opposite  in  his  general  make-up, 
being  a  larger  and  more  heavily  built  man  of 
florid  complexion,  evidently  growing  toward 
corpulency  in  his  advancing  years;  a  phleg 
matic  temperament,  slow  in  movement  and 
speech;  with  a  judicial  air,  probably  acquired 
through  deference  to  his  ill-gotten  title;  a 
coach  in  his  college  days,  degenerating  into 
a  boxing  master  and  a  trainer  of  pugilists. 
Upon  his  cheek  he  carried  an  ugly  scar  from 
a  knife  wound,  a  cruel  blow,  which  it  was 
whispered  was  aimed  at  the  heart  of  Mr. 
Steven  Henry  Belden,  and  under  circum 
stances  which  had  cemented  the  bonds  of 
friendship  between  them;  for  Mr.  Belden  was 
not  devoid  of  feelings  of  gratitude.  Indeed  it 
was  his  boast  that  he  never  forgot,  or  failed  to 
remember  and  reward  a  friend  or  an  enemy. 
With  this  favorite  expression,  it  was  notice 
able  that  the  reference  to  an  enemy,  even 
on  his  well-controlled  countenance,  always 
brought  to  the  surface  a  hardness  of  expres 
sion  such  as  invariably  marks  the  features 


UP  THE  GRADE  9 

of  one  who  harbors  the  evil  spirit  of  revenge. 

"How  long  have  you  owned  this  place, 
Steve?"  asked  Judge  Densmore. 

"  Well,  I  might  say,  all  my  life.  I  was  born 
here  and,  as  you  know,  being  the  only  off 
shoot  of  my  father's  branch  of  the  Belden 
family,  I  inherited  this  and  what  other 
property  he  accumulated  by  a  long  life  of  hard 
work  and  habitual  frugality;  for,  while  it  may 
be  hard  for  you  to  believe  it,  after  so  intimate 
an  acquaintance  with  his  only  son,  my  father 
was  an  honest  man,  and  my  mother — well,  I 
don't  like  to  think  of  her,  and  don't  allow 
myself  to  very  often.  You  know  father 
was  stricken  with  apoplexy  under  this  old 
tree,  on  just  such  a  summer  evening  as  this, 
and  fell  dead  right  where  you  are  sitting,  and 
mother  followed  him  soon  after.  I  can  see 
her  now,  sitting  there  with  that  tired,  lone 
some  look  on  her  face.  I  was  left  alone  with 
Aunt  Fanny  and  the  hired  men.  She  sent  me 
to  school  over  there  by  the  mill  pond.  There 
was  an  old  log  schoolhouse  standing  there 
then. 

"  You  remember  when  I  showed  up  at  the 
'U/  I  was  about  as  unsophisticated  a  kid 


10  UP  THE  GRADE 

as  you  ever  punched  in  the  ribs  with  an 
eight-ounce  glove." 

The  Judge  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair,  and, 
as  if  to  change  the  subject,  said:  "I  didn't 
know  your  father  was  so  much  of  a  pioneer, 
Steve." 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "he  took  this  land  from 
the  government,  and  the  patent  bears  the 
signature  of  President  Jackson." 

"President  Jackson!  That  was  long  before 
my  time.  Here,  Steve,  take  a  pull  at  one  of 
these,  and  imagine  that  it  was  rolled  and  the 
wrapper  moistened  by  the  rosy  red  lips  of  the 
prettiest  black-eyed  Cuban  gal  you  ever  saw — 
way  ahead  of  those  dainty,  dancing  Creoles  you 
took  such  a  shine  to  down  in  New  Orleans. 
Fm  afraid  you  are  wandering  off  into  a  remi 
niscent  mood.  If  my  memory  serves  me  right, 
I  believe  you  and  I  agreed  long  ago  that  for  us 
there  was  more  pleasure  to  be  found  in  par 
ticipating  in  the  present,  and  in  anticipating 
the  future,  than  in  the  retrospective." 

Mr.  Belden  lighted  his  cigar,  his  face  re 
taining  the  same  absent-minded  expression, 
and  proceeded  in  the  same  vein,  evidently 
not  heeding  the  attempt  of  his  companion  to 


UP  THE  GRADE  11 

break  in  upon  his  reverie.  "It  was  here, 
just  as  I  was  getting  ready  to  go  back  to  my 
last  year  at  the  'U/  when  old  Deacon  Barlow 
moved  to  the  rolling  prairie  neighborhood, 
and  I  first  met  and  fell  desperately  in  love  with 
his  daughter  Celia.  Just  as  I  was  getting 
nicely  under  way  with  my  courtship,  and  had 
begun  to  think  I  was  getting  on  the  soft  side 
of  her,  David  Williams  came  over  from  the 
town  of  Cadmus,  and  engaged  Celia  to  teach 
their  school;  and  that  little  incident,  trifling 
as  it  may  seem,  came  very  near  knocking  the 
whole  thing  in  the  head." 

"Williams, — why,  isn't  that  the  name  of 
the  young  fellow  that's  now  working  for  you?" 

"Yes,  but  the  one  I  am  speaking  of  was 
his  father — that  was  before  this  mild-eyed 
kid  was  born.  Til  get  round  to  this  one  pretty 
soon;  he  comes  into  my  story,  as  he  will  find 
out  to  his  sorrow  some  day.  Well,  she  went 
over  to  teach  their  school,  and  I,  of  course, 
was  a  frequent  visitor  at  their  home  during 
the  few  days  that  remained  of  my  vacation — 
she  boarded  there.  Well,  to  make  a  long 
story  short,  before  I  went  back  to  school, 
the  purest  and  sweetest  girl  I  had  ever  asso- 


12  UP  THE  GRADE 

ciated  with  had  promised  to  be  my  wife  as 
soon  as  I  returned  with  my  diploma.77 

"You  say,  Steve,  this  was  just  before  you 
came  back  the  last  year?" 

"Yes,  just  about  the  time  you  left  for  the 
South." 

"You  young  rascal,"  said  the  Judge  in  a 
half-serious  tone,  "you  were  engaged  to  the 
daughter  of  the  widow  who  ran  the  Capital 
Hill  boarding  house,  where  a  lot  of  you  young 
bloods  boarded." 

"Oh, yes,  I  had  a  girl  for  nearly  every  even 
ing  of  the  week,  and  engaged  to  all  of  them, 
but  I  was  sowing  my  wild  oats  then." 

"And  harvested  quite  a  crop,  too,  as  I 
remember,"  raising  his  eyebrows  with  a 
feigned  air  of  reproof.  "Your  story  is  getting 
interesting,  old  man.  I  have  never  heard 
you  speak  of  this  romance  before — go  on." 


CHAPTER  III 
REVENGE 

THE  remarks  of  the  Judge  seemed  to  be 
lost,  as  Mr.  Belden,  apparently  not  noticing 
them,  proceeded  with  unaltered  countenance : 
"During  that  last  year,  I  kept  up  correspon 
dence  with  Celia.  For  some  time  her  letters 
were  all  that  an  ardent  lover  could  wish,  but 
they  gradually  became  less  frequent,  and  I 
saw  a  change,  which  could  hardly  be  called 
coldness — more  of  a  sadness,  which  I  men 
tioned  in  one  of  my  letters  and  asked  for  an 
explanation.  But  I  was  mighty  careful  how 
I  worded  that  letter,  for  she  was  the  most  sen 
sitive  person  I  ever  knew.  There  was  a  shy 
ness  about  her  that  reminded  me  of  a  fawn  I 
caught  over  on  Eagle  Island  when  I  was  a  boy 
— she  was  so  timid,  and  put  on  such  a  fright 
ened  look  when  anything  went  wrong.  When 
her  answer  came,  she  said  that  a  very  dear 
friend,  who  was  older  than  she,  and  whose 
truth,  judgment  and  honesty  she  could  not 

13 


14  UP  THE  GRADE 

doubt,  and  whose  name  she  could  not  give  me, 
had  advised  her  to  break  our  engagement, 
and  she  felt  it  her  duty  to  ask  me  to  release 
her  until  she  was  older,  and  we  would  become 
better  acquainted  with  the  inner  life  of 
each  other.  I  felt  sure  it  was  Dave 
Williams7  wife  that  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  all, 
for  she  took  Celia  to  her  heart  on  first  sight, 
and  (Delia's  letters  were  full  of  her  praise  until 
their  tone  changed,  and  she  never  spoke  of 
her  after  that.  I  wrote  her  at  once,  telling 
her  to  consider  herself  free,  and  I  would  wait 
patiently  until  she  was  satisfied  that  I  was  all 
she  believed  me  to  be,  before  that  wise  friend — 
prompted  no  doubt,  by  a  sincere  and  purely 
unselfish  interest  in  her  welfare — had  given 
her  what  my  own  judgment  forced  me  to  feel 
was  good,  sensible  advice  to  one  so  young  and 
pure;  that  I  never  expected  to  be  worthy  of 
her,  but  since  she  came  into  my  life,  it  had 
received  a  special  uplift,  and  it  would  be  my 
daily  prayer  that  that  small  spark  which  had 
been  kindled  by  my  sainted  mother  in  the 
heart  of  her  orphan  boy  might  be  fanned  into 
a  blaze  of  religous  fervor. 

"  Judge,"  he  continued,  rising  and  slowly 


UP  THE  GRADE  15 

pacing  back  and  forth  before  him,  his  eyes 
gleaming  like  a  fiend  incarnate,  every  nerve 
and  muscle  strained  to  its  highest  tension, 
"that  was  the  hardest  letter  to  write  I  ever 
put  on  paper.  It  tried  my  diplomacy  to 
the  limit,  and  I  have  written  some  that 
would  have  made  the  devil  himself  blush  for 
shame.  That  letter  was  written  between  the 
bitterest  and  blackest  oaths  and  curses. 
David  Williams'  wife!  Curse  her  and  her 
offspring!" 

As  his  rage  increased  in  fury,  his  voice  sank 
to  a  low,  soft  and  measured  tone:  "I  took 
a  solemn  oath  that  night  that  Celia  Barlow 
should  be  my  wife;  and  I  called  upon  the 
spirit  of  evil,  and  all  the  demons  of  darkness 
to  help  me  wreak  eternal  vengeance  on  Mary 
Williams  and  her  progeny  and  blight  her 
fondest  hopes.  Judge,  I  don't  believe  in  a 
personal  devil,  but  I  do  believe  that  there  is  a 
spirit  of  evil  that  you  can  pray  to,  and  if  your 
prayer  is  backed  up  by  action,  it  will  be  an 
swered." 

"  Then  you  must  believe  there  is  a  spirit  of 
good  that  will  answer  prayer?" 

"  Yes,  I  do,  if  the  prayer  asks  for  something 


16  UP  THE  GRADE 

good  and  is  backed  up  by  hard  work,  but  I 
have  never  done  any  of  that  kind  of  praying 
myself. " 

The  Judge  broke  into  a  hearty  laugh,  say 
ing:  "Well,  if  these  two  spirits  got  in  their 
work  on  a  fellow  at  the  same  time,  the  one 
trying  to  knock  him  out,  and  the  other  to 
brace  him  up,  which  do  you  think  would  be 
the  most  likely  to  get  the  decision?  Which 
would  you  put  your  money  on,  Steve?" 

"  I  wouldn't  put  up  anything  on  that  match, 
Judge,  for  the  fellow  has  the  game  all  in  his 
own  hands — no  referee  needed  there;  he 
decides  it  himself,  throws  it  whichever  way 
he  chooses,  and  takes  the  consequences. 
That's  my  theology,  but  I  must  confess  that 
I  have  always  tried  to  steer  clear  of  that  kind 
of  a  racket.  I  have  chosen  the  easy  way  that 
runs  smoothest  and  helps  me  get  sweet  re 
venge,  with  no  worry  about  the  future." 

"This  kind  of  spirit  suits  me  very  well," 
said  the  Judge,  another  outburst  shaking  his 
fat  sides,  at  the  same  time  handing  a  pocket 
flask  to  Mr.  Belden,  saying:  "try  some  of  my 
theology.  But,  say,  your  story  grows  in  in 
terest.  I  am  anxious  to  know  how  you  came 


UP  THE  GRADE  17 

out  with  the  gal,  and  what  you  are  going  to 
do  with  this  young  fellow." 

Just  at  this  moment,  footsteps  were  heard, 
and  Richard  Williams  was  seen  approaching, 
dressed  in  a  very  plain  suit  of  light  summer 
clothing,  which  was  evidently  his  Sunday 
best. 

"Here  he  comes  now,"  said  Mr.  Belden. 
"He  often  goes  home  of  a  Saturday  night." 
Then  turning  to  the  young  man  he  said 
pleasantly:  "Starting  for  home,  are  you, 
Richard?  You  are  not  going  without  your 
supper?" 

"Yes,  I  am  going  home.  I  have  had  my 
supper.  Your  supper  is  waiting.  Maggie 
said  she  did  not  like  to  disturb  you  gentle 
men — you  seemed  to  be  having  such  a  good 
visit.  It  is  seven  o'clock  now." 

"Where  do  you  live?"  asked  Judge 
Densmore. 

"At  Black  Hawk  Spring,  a  small  station 
over  on  the  main  line,"  he  replied. 

"How  far  is  it  from  here?" 

"They  call  it  sixteen  miles,  but  I  think  it 
is  further;  it  usually  takes  me  six  hours  to 
walk  it.  I  am  going  to  try  and  make  it  in 


18  UP  THE  GRADE 

five  and  a  half  tonight.  I  will  start  back  at 
one  o' clock  Monday  morning,  Mr.  Belden." 

"Here,  Richard,  before  you  start,"  and  the 
Judge  handed  out  his  flask. 

"No,  sir,  thank  you,"  and  the  next  mo 
ment  he  was  walking  up  the  road  toward 
home. 

The  Judge  stood  looking  after  him  in  amaze 
ment.  "Sixteen  miles,  and  he  is  going  to 
walk  it  tonight,  after  such  a  day's  work  as  he 
has  done  today!  Why  doesn't  he  go  'round 
by  train  or  on  horseback?" 

Mr.  Belden  made  no  reply,  and  they  slowly 
walked  toward  the  house.  Just  before  enter 
ing,  the  Judge  said: 

"Don't  forget  where  you  left  off,  Steve. 
I  must  hear  all  of  that  story." 


CHAPTER  IV 
SUNDAY  AT  THE  FARM 

THE  person  whom  Richard  spoke  of  as 
Maggie,  and  who  presided  over  the  home  of 
Mr.  Belden,  was  a  woman  of  possibly  thirty- 
five  years  of  age,  whom  he  had  met  in  his 
travels.  She  was  a  widow  of  a  captain  in 
the  Federal  Army,  who  went  down  before 
Pickett's  charge  at  Gettysburg.  It  was 
generally  believed  that  her  real  name  now 
was  Mrs.  Belden,  but  that,  for  the  pension 
which  she  received  as  an  officer's  widow, 
she  and  Mr.  Belden  had  agreed  that  she  pass 
as  his  hired  housekeeper.  She  was  rather 
large  of  stature,  with  bright  red  hair,  which 
she  always  wore  in  ringlets;  she  had  large, 
light-gray  eyes  and  was  slightly  freckled. 
Her  manner  was  kindly,  and  she  was  an 
excellent  cook  and  a  model  housekeeper. 
With  her  the  word  and  look  of  Mr.  Steven 
Henry  Belden  was  law;  she  seldom  asserted 
her  own  individuality;  slow  to  anger,  but 

19 


20  UP  THE  GRADE 

when,  perchanco,  she  became  aroused,  which 
was  most  likely  to  occur  over  some  real  or 
fancied  slight  on  his  part,  Mr.  Belden  found 
he  had  met  his  master.  She  could  ride  a 
horse,  shoot  a  revolver,  drive  a  reaper,  yes, 
and  she  could  draw  the  reins  over  Maid  of 
the  West,  when  she  was  home  for  vacation, 
after  her  annual  tour  of  the  racing  circuit 
with  the  same  ease  and  grace  that  she  could 
make  pastry,  or  serve  rich  dinners  at  the 
Belden  farm. 

After  the  evening  meal,  which  was  one  of 
her  best,  was  over,  while  the  Judge  dozed 
in  his  chair,  Mr.  Belden  brought  out  his 
fishing  tackle,  gun  and  ammunition,  and  in 
answer  to  her  inquiry  said  that  the  Judge 
and  himself  were  going  out  in  the  morning 
to  look  for  a  covey  of  prairie  chickens  that 
he  had  been  keeping  for  a  special  occasion, 
and  they  would  spend  an  hour  trolling  for 
pickerel  on  the  mill  pond. 

"I  am  afraid,"  he  added,  "the  Judge  will 
forget  it  is  Sunday,  if  we  don't  go  hunting  or 
fishing,  so  I  have  decided  to  do  both,  but  we 
will  be  back  in  time  for  lunch." 

He   kept  his  word,   and   after   they  had 


UP  THE  GRADE  21 

partaken  of  the  dainties  which  awaited  them, 
and  to  which  they  both  did  ample  justice, 
they  repaired  to  the  shade  of  the  old  oak  when 
the  Judge,  producing  his  case  of  Havanas, 
requested  Mr.Belden  to  "go  on  with  his  story." 
After  a  few  minutes'  silence,  in  which  Mr. 
Belden  seemed  to  be  in  deep  meditation,  he 
again  took  up  the  thread  of  his  narrative. 


CHAPTER  V 
A  VILLAINOUS  PLOT 

"AFTER  writing  that  letter  and  taking 
those  vows,  I  began  to  lay  my  plans,  first, 
to  win  Celia;  second,  to  get  even  with  that 
woman.  It  was  always  easy  for  me  to  keep 
up  with  my  class,  with  time  to  spare.  The 
next  Sunday  found  me  way  out  in  one  of 
the  suburbs,  at  a  little  Baptist  Chapel,  so 
attentive  a  listener  as  to  attract  the  notice 
of  Elder  Mead,  the  preacher,  who  came  down 
after  the  service,  shook  hands,  said  he  was 
glad  to  see  me,  and  invited  me  to  remain  to 
Sunday  School,  the  very  thing  I  wanted  him 
to  do.  I  complimented  his  sermon,  told  him 
I  was  a  stranger  in  the  city,  and,  hearing  of  the 
work  he  was  doing,  had  come  out  to  hear  him 
preach;  that  I  was  pleased  with  the  homelike 
atmosphere  of  his  church,  and  should  come 
again. 

"I  took  in  the  Sunday  School,  enrolled 
myself  as  a  member  of  the  Young  Men's  Bible 

22 


UP  THE  GRADE  23 

Class,  and  began  the  cultivation  of  the  'inner 
life.7 

"  I  made  such  progress  that  in  a  short  time 
I  yielded  to  the  urgent  solicitations  of  the 
elder  and  deacons,  and,  after  complying  with 
the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  church,  was 
admitted  to  membership,  and  Elder  Mead 
counted  me  as  one  of  the  stars  in  his  crown. 

"When  I  left  there,  a  little  church  bulletin 
which  they  published  said:  'We  regret  to 
lose  from  our  Church  Society  Mr.  Steven 
Belden,  who  has,  during  his  all  too  brief  stay 
endeared  himself  to  all,  old  and  young;  his 
place  in  the  Sunday  School  will  not  soon  be 
filled,  and  one  and  all  wish  him  a  safe  journey 
to  his  home,  and  bespeak  for  him  a  life  of 
great  usefulness.' 

"  In  some  way,  that  bulletin  chanced  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  good  old  Deacon  Barlow, 
and  he  and  his  family  were  at  once  enlisted 
in  my  favor,  and  it  was  not  very  long  after  I 
returned  before  I  was  fully  reinstated  in  the 
esteem  of  Celia,  our  engagement  made  public, 
and  we  were  married  at  Christmas  time." 

"You  certainly  worked  your  cards  well 
and  won  out/'  said  the  Judge  enthusiastically. 


24  UP  THE  GRADE 

"It  seems  the  Williams  woman  pulled  out  of 
the  race  and  left  you  a  clear  track?" 

"  Well,  I  guess  not — that  woman  read  me 
like  an  open  book.  I  never  met  her,  but  she 
made  me  feel  that  she  was  dead  onto  my 
curves.  She  advised  Celia  to  wait  a  year,  and 
I  had  quite  a  time  talking  her  out  of  the 
notion. 

"For  a  while  after  we  were  married,  I  kept 
up  the  church  play,  but  gradually  began  to 
grow  away  from  it,  and  she  became  so  melan 
choly  and  quiet  in  her  manners  that  there 
was  not  much  enjoyment  in  life  for  either  of 
us.  I  got  to  spending  considerable  time  up 
at  the  Lake,  and  sometimes  came  home  pretty 
well  filled  up.  Her  health  got  poor,  and  she 
gradually  faded  away,  and  before  I  even 
dreamt  that  there  was  anything  serious  in 
her  illness,  before  we  had  been  married  quite 
three  years,  she  died.  Her  death  seemed  to 
bring  me  to  my  senses.  Every  unkind  word, 
all  the  neglect  and  cruel  treatment  I  had  shown 
her,  came  back  to  me,  and  when,  a  few  days 
later,  I  met  one  of  her  brothers  down  by  the 
mill  pond,  he  turned  upon  me  with  all  the 
fury  of  a  wild  beast  and  accused  me  of  killing 


UP  THE  GRADE  25 

her  by  my  hellish  conduct,  and  threatened 
to  kill  me  if  I  ever  crossed  his  path,  and  wound 
up  by  saying  that  if  she  had  taken  the  advice 
of  Mary  Williams,  she  would  now  be  alive  and 
happy. 

"I  fled  for  my  life,  and  the  old  hatred  for 
that  Williams  woman  came  back  to  me  with 
increased  bitterness.  Through  my  influence, 
the  Williams  farm  had  been  taken  away  from 
them  by  the  foreclosure  of  a  mortgage,  and 
they  had  moved  out  of  the  state,  but  I  swore 
I  would  find  them  and  get  even  with  her 
yet.  That  thirst  for  revenge  gave  me  some 
thing  to  live  for.  I  went  to  New  Orleans,  and 
you  remember  when  I  met  you  there  at  the 
races?" 

"Yes,  Steve,  I  shall  never  forget  how  we 
met — when  we  were  both  nearly  broke,  nor 
how  you  had  changed.  You  had  grown  from 
a  happy,  reckless  young  boy  to  a  sedate  man, 
looking  at  least  ten  years  older.  We  had 
some  wild  adventures  and  saw  some  of  the 
world.  We  worked  some  pretty  cunning 
schemes  with  that  patent  of  mine,  and  caught 
a  good  string  of  suckers,  but  your  poker  racket 
was  the  trump  card,  and  we  worked  it  to  the 


26  UP  THE  GRADE 

tune  of  over  one  hundred  thousand,  in  about 
ten  years. 

"  Do  you  remember  when  we  opened  up  at 
St.  Louis — I  went  into  the  city  by  train,  and 
you  got  off  a  river  boat — I,  a  gentleman  of 
leisure  who  played  for  fun,  and  you,  a  Span 
iard,  who  could  hardly  speak  English,  and 
really  knew  but  a  few  sentences  in  broken 
Spanish,  but  passed  as  a  professional  gambler, 
how  we  always  met  as  strangers,  and  when  I 
managed  to  get  a  winning  hand  up  my  sleeves, 
or  in  a  card  Jack  under  the  table,  and  began 
to  sing 

When  I  went  down  to  Washington, 

To  vote  for  Abram  Linkum, 

how  you  put  up  your  pile,  and  I  raked  in  the 
pot,  and  you  and  the  poor  suckers  who  were 
not  onto  our  game  all  went  broke;  then  I 
would  lend  you  a  few  dollars  to  get  out  of 
town  on,  and  we  would  move  on  and  acci 
dentally  meet  in  some  other  city,  and  play 
the  same  old  game,  always  doing  the  suckers?" 
"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Belden,  "I  remember  it 
all,  and  what  you  have  so  considerately  failed 
to  mention,  that  I  got  so  dissipated  that  you 
were  forced  to  drop  me  out,  and  when  you 


UP  THE  GRADE  27 

put  me  on  the  boat  at  the  foot  of  Market 
Street,  in  Frisco,  with  a  ticket  'round  the 
Horn,  a  well-filled  buckskin  bag  of  California 
gold  in  my  trunk,  I,  more  dead  than  alive,  a 
broken  wreck,  with  just  enough  strength  left 
to  get  back  to  the  old  farm  and  die,  as  I  then 
thought. 

"I  have  not  seen  your  good  old  scarred  face 
since  that  day,  until  you  dropped  in  on  me 
last  Friday/' 

At  the  mention  of  the  scar,  the  Judge  drew 
his  hand  over  his  cheek,  a  movement  that  had 
become  habitual  with  him,  probably  to  con 
ceal  the  disfigurement,  and  said  jovially: 

"Well,  never  mind,  but  tell  me  what  you 
have  been  doing  since  we  parted  in  Frisco. 
Did  you  ever  run  up  against  that  brother-in- 
law  who  run  you  out  of  the  country?" 

"No,  he  died  in  an  epidemic  that  swept 
over  this  part  of  the  state,  and  a  good  many 
others  who  lived  here  when  I  went  away; 
and  my  past  career  seemed  to  be  forgotten, 
or  possibly  my  money  has  aided  their  forget- 
fulness.  They  certainly  have  treated  me  like 
a  lord.  A  judicious  contribution  now  and 
then  to  the  benevolent  and  progressive  enter- 


28  UP  THE  GRADE 

prises  of  the  neighborhood  seems  to  act  as  an 
anesthetic  and  sinks  the  past  in  delightful 
oblivion.  Scarcely  a  week  passes  that  some 
good  sister  or  brother  of  the  church  doesn't 
come  'round  to  see  Brother  Belden  for  a  sub 
scription.  I  sometimes  wonder  if  'charity 
covers  a  multitude  of  sins'  isn't  a  misquota 
tion,  and  it  should  read  'money'  instead  of 
'charity/  no  matter  how  you  got  it,  and" — 

"How  about  that  Williams  woman,  Steve? 
You  seem  to  have  let  up  on  her." 

"Not  by  any  means,"  said  Mr.  Belden. 
"After  I  got  sobered  off,  and  began  to  recover 
my  health,  I  made  diligent  inquiry  among 
the  old  settlers  regarding  the  whereabouts  of 
my  old  friends,  the  Williams  family;  but  all 
I  could  learn  was  that  they  had  moved  out  of 
the  state  just  before  the  war.  You  may 
imagine  my  surprise  and  satisfaction  when 
one  day  last  winter  Dave  Williams  walked 
into  my  house.  He  said  they  had  been  living 
in  a  small  town  in  Iowa,  where  he  had  had 
all  sorts  of  bad  luck,  and  had  never  been  able 
to  get  ahead,  or  hardly  to  make  both  ends 
meet;  that  when  the  railroad  was  built 
through  to  the  Fox  River,  and  that  branch 


UP  THE  GRADE  29 

became  the  main  line,  he  moved  back  and 
located  at  Black  Hawk  Spring,  which  prom 
ised  to  become  a  thriving  little  town,  and 
acquiring  a  lot  in  the  townsite  by  gift,  he  had 
managed  to  erect  a  small  cottage,  for  which 
he  was  in  debt — the  first  home  he  could  call 
his  own  since  he  lost  his  farm  in  the  town  of 
Cadmus,  or  rather,  would  call  his  home  when 
it  was  paid  for.  I  asked  him  about  his  good 
wife  and  family.  He  said  she  was  in  rather 
poor  health,  having  borne  seven  children, 
three  of  whom  had  died  in  infancy,  probably 
from  lack  of  nourishment,  due  to  overwork 
of  the  mother.  'But/  he  added,  'our  oldest 
boy,  Richard,  is  our  mainstay,  now  a  man 
grown,  a  perfect  Hercules  in  strength,  who 
has  been  accustomed  to  all  kinds  of  hard 
work,  and  can  turn  off  about  as  much  work 
in  a  day  as  two  ordinary  men.  He  is  the  idol 
of  his  mother,  and  her  only  regret  is  our  ina 
bility  to  give  him  an  education.  He  is  a 
great  reader  and  very  quick  to  learn,  and 
hungry  for  an  education.  As  soon  as  we  get 
our  home  paid  for,  we  hope  to  give  him  a 
chance  to  get  a  little  schooling.  He  hasn't 
a  bad  habit,  and  has  always  brought  home 


30  UP  THE  GRADE 

every  cent  he  could  earn,  and  put  it  into  the 
family  till.  You  ought  to  see  him,  Mr. 
Belden,  and  you  would  not  wonder  that  he 
is  the  hope  and  pride  of  his  father  and  mother/ 

"I  promised  him  I  would  come  over  and 
visit  them  at  no  distant  day,  for  I  had  not 
forgotten  that  Mrs.  Williams  had  been  the 
bosom  friend  of  my  dear  wife.  In  a  few  days 
I  paid  them  a  visit,  and  before  I  left,  it  was 
agreed  that  their  son  should  drive  the  black 
horses,  and  do  the  work  on  the  Belden  farm 
this  summer,  and  here  he  is  under  the  tender 
care  of  'an  old  friend  of  the  family/  where  he 
shall  learn  some  of  the  ways  of  the  world. 

"  I  suppose  today  he  is  having  a  great  visit 
with  his  mamma,  or  possibly,  making  a  bash 
ful  call  at  a  certain  big  white  farmhouse  just 
out  of  the  new  town  of  Black  Hawk  Spring. 
Daniel  Reese,  a  good  old  Welsh  pioneer,  lives 
there;  his  young  daughter  Annie  is  said  to 
be  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  county.  It  is  also 
said  that  she  smiles  sweetly  on  Richard.  The 
old  folks  are  strict  church  people,  of  the  Cal- 
vinistic  faith — a  hint  that  Richard  is  growing 
a  little  wild  over  here,  whispered  into  the 
ears  of  the  old  man  at  the  right  time,  will 


UP  THE  GRADE  31 

sow  the  seeds  of  distrust  in  his  fertile  brain, 
and  our  Dicky  will  find  the  course  of  puppy 
love  not  any  too  smooth.  If  my  schemes  work, 
he  will  not  be  just  the  sort  of  a  fellow  to  satisfy 
the  pride  and  ambition  of  that  sturdy  old 
Welsh  couple,  when  I  get  through  with  him, 
or  the  beautiful  Annie,  for  that  matter. 

"  I  sent  him  up  to  the  Lake  with  a  load  of 
wheat  a  few  days  ago,  drove  over  myself  with 
the  Maid,  met  him  there  (accidentally,  of 
course),  gave  him  his  first  lesson  at  playing 
pool,  and  saw  him  drink  a  few  glasses — the 
first  that  ever  touched  his  lips.  He  started 
off  beautifully.  If  he  once  gets  going,  he 
will  go  fast;  he  never  does  anything  by  halves. 
I  have  told  him  of  some  of  our  exploits  at 
the  poker  table  and  the  money  there  is  in  it, 
if  played  right.  I  could  see  that  he  can  be 
easily  worked  up  to  a  fever  heat  over  any 
thing  that  will  bring  money  to  pay  off  his 
dad's  debts. 

"I  got  him  at  just  the  right  age,  Bill. 
Jackson,  the  telegraph  operator  at  Black 
Hawk  Spring  is  a  big,  strapping  fellow  who 
weighs  one  eighty,  and  stands  nearly  six  feet 
in  his  stockings.  He  used  to  drive  Maid  of 


32  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  West  for  me  until  he  got  overweight, 
when  he  learned  telegraphy.  He  went  over 
to  Black  Hawk  Spring  with  me  the  first  time 
I  went  over  there,  got  his  eye  on  Annie  Reese, 
and  went  wild  over  her.  I  helped  him  get 
that  office.  Richard,  the  young  Hercules, 
as  his  father  calls  him,  will  be  likely  to  make 
his  acquaintance.  If  he  ever  runs  up  against 
Bill  Jackson,  he  will  hear  something  drop. 
I  haven't  played  my  best  cards  yet;  I  have 
some  up  my  sleeve  that  will  'rake  in  the  jack 
pot/  I  feel  it  incumbent  on  me  to  look  after 
the  spiritual  as  well  as  the  physical,  moral, 
intellectual  and  possibly  matrimonial  interests 
of  this  precious  young  pet  of  his  mother. 
His  mother,  Judge,  is  Mary  Williams.  This 
brings  my  story  up  to  the  highly  interesting 
present.  If  my  little  schemes  work  as  they 
promise  to  Mary  Williams  will  be  paid  back 
in  her  own  coin,  and  some,  if  not  all  of  them, 
will  work" 


CHAPTER  VI 

ANNIE  REESE 

WHEN  Richard  left  Mr.  Belden  and  the 
Judge,  the  sun  was  sinking  toward  the  western 
horizon  almost  enshrouded  in  a  gauzy  drapery 
of  shimmering  heat.  A  few  straggling  rays 
darted  toward  the  earth  as  though  the  god  of 
the  day  was  making  a  dying  effort  to  draw 
from  the  rivers  and  lakes  moisture  to  scatter 
in  pearly  drops  upon  the  thirsty  earth.  Not 
a  breath  of  air  stirred  the  leaves  on  the  maple 
and  locust  trees  which  were  scattered  along 
the  neighboring  farms;  and  when  he  reached 
the  border  of  the  rolling  prairie  through  which 
his  road  lay,  the  tall  lombardy  poplars  which 
for  a  distance  lined  the  road  on  either  side 
stood  motionless,  sending  their  slender  shaft- 
like  shadows  athwart  the  fields.  The  blades 
of  corn  hung  limp  in  the  sultry  air.  The 
yellow  dandelion,  the  white  clover  and  the 
daisy  lifted  their  heads  from  the  closely 
cropped  grass  of  the  roadside  and  turned 

33 


34  UP  THE  GRADE 

their  faces  upward,  inviting  the  dewdrops 
to  wash  away  the  dust  and  heat  of  the  depart 
ing  day.  The  silence  was  broken  by  the 
sound  of  horses'  feet,  and  glancing  backward, 
Richard  saw  a  light  carriage  approaching, 
drawn  by  a  fine  pair  of  matched  bays.  The 
driver,  who  was  alone  in  the  carriage,  he  recog 
nized  as  a  rich  banker  who  lived  in  the  town 

of  C ,  a  few  miles  from  his  home.     His 

heart  gave  a  bound  when  he  thought  of  the 
possibility  of  an  invitation  to  ride,  and  what 
it  would  mean  to  him  to  ride  in  that  shining, 
cushioned  seat  to  within  four  miles  of  his 
home.  He  stepped  aside,  the  horses  slack 
ened  their  pace,  the  driver 's  whip  cracked, 
and  the  carriage  sped  onward,  leaving  a  cloud 
of  dust  behind.  The  banker's  mind  was 
doubtless  too  much  absorbed  with  the 
thoughts  of  the  price  of  land  or  some  loan  he 
was  negotiating  even  to  notice  the  plain 
young  farmer  by  the  roadside.  Ah!  Mr. 
Banker,  you  have  lost  an  opportunity,  which, 
if  properly  improved,  would  have  given  you 
more  satisfaction  and  been  of  greater  profit 
than  that  shown  on  your  balance  sheet  for 
many  a  month  to  come.  Had  you  given  that 


UP  THE  GRADE  35 

tired  young  man  a  seat  by  your  side  with  a 
word  of  cheer,  and  an  hour  of  helpful  sug 
gestion  from  a  successful  business  man,  who 
can  say  what  lofty  ambition  you  might  have 
encouraged,  what  noble  resolutions  strength 
ened? 

Richard  watched  the  carriage  as  it  passed 
from  one  to  another  of  the  rolling  prairie 
hilltops,  and  finally,  in  the  gathering  twilight, 
he  saw  it  climb  what  was  known  as  the  long 
hill  and  go  over  the  summit  out  of  sight. 

"  If  that  man  had  asked  me  to  ride,  I  would 
now  be  over  the  long  hill  and  home  by  ten 
o'clock,"  he  soliloquized,  his  features  taking 
on  for  a  moment  an  expression  of  great  annoy 
ance,  not  to  say  anger.  "I  may  drive  as 
good  a  rig  as  that  of  my  own  some  day.  Who 
knows  but  I  may  pass  him  on  the  road,  or 
some  of  his  family,  sometime?" 

Then,  after  walking  on  thoughtfully  for  some 
distance,  "I  guess  her  way  is  best  after  all." 
Whoever  or  whatever  of  the  past  his  memory 
had  called  up,  it  was  evident  that  the  resent 
ful  spirit  was  gone,  and  some  holy  influence 
had  set  his  heart  at  peace  with  all  men,  for 
his  step  seemed  lighter,  and  his  face  assumed 


36  UP  THE  GRADE 

its  wonted  expression  of  happy  hopefulness. 

When  he  reached  the  summit  of  the  "long 
hill,"  he  paused  for  a  moment,  removed  his 
hat  and  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 

The  moon,  now  in  its  first  quarter,  had 
disappeared  behind  a  tumbled  mass  of  black 
clouds,  which  lay  banked  along  the  westerly 
sky,  topped  by  ragged  crests  of  great  foam- 
like  "thunder  heads,"  which  at  intervals 
were  illuminated  by  vivid  flashes  of  lightning. 

From  here  his  road  passed  through  dark 
woodlands  and  wound  along  the  damp  border 
of  a  swamp,  from  which  came  the  dismal 
notes  of  the  night  bittern,  and  a  whip-poor- 
will  broke  into  song  so  near  the  roadside  that 
the  clucking  sound  dividing  its  notes  was 
plainly  audible. 

The  storm  drew  nearer;  the  sky  became 
overcast;  great  gusts  of  wind  shook  the  trees. 
He  stepped  beneath  a  clump  of  basswood 
boughs  where  broad  leaves  offered  a  tem 
porary  shelter.  A  few  great  drops  of  rain — 
the  sound  of  hail  pelting  the  earth  in  the 
distance — and  the  storm  had  passed  to  the 
eastward.  The  onrushing  rumble  of  a  rail 
road  train,  the  shrill  whistle  as  the  belated 


UP  THE  GRADE  37 

midnight  express  dashed  by  the  station  at 
Black  Hawk  Spring,  showed  that  he  was 
almost  home.  Turning  an  abrupt  corner, 
the  road  ran  past  an  orchard,  then  the  out 
lines  of  a  large  white  house  became  visible — 
there  was  a  light  burning  in  one  of  the  upper 
windows.  It  was  the  home  of  Daniel  Reese. 
He,  slackening  his  pace,  cast  a  half-timid 
look  at  the  house  and  its  surroundings.  There 
is  the  well,  with  its  long  sweep  and  battered 
bucket;  the  great  tree  with  the  large,  dark 
opening  beneath  its  roots  where  the  children 
had  thrown  broken  crockery  and  glassware 
since  their  earliest  recollection,  and  where 
the  hens  stole  their  nests  away.  Here  by 
the  grove  of  plum  trees  is  a  great  scar  on  the 
earth  where  the  old  log  house  stood,  which 
has  recently  been  torn  away — the  house  where 
Annie  was  born;  and  the  old  gate  at  the  end 
of  the  walk  leading  to  the  broad  porch  where 
he  and  Annie  had  stood  when  she  had  told 
him  of  her  plans  to  become  a  teacher,  when 
her  education  was  finished.  He  remembered 
the  deep  longing  in  his  heart  when  she  told 
him  of  her  school  and  her  studies,  and  said, 
"You  ought  to  be  in  school,  Richard/'  He 


38  UP  THE  GRADE 

remembered  how  he  told  her  frankly  of  the 
yearning  he  had  for  an  education,  which,  for 
the  present  at  least,  he  could  do  no  more  than 
long  for,  as  his  duty  to  his  parents  and  love 
for  them  must  take  the  preference;  and  he 
remembered  the  look  in  her  face  when  she 
said,  "That's  right,  Richard,  do  your  duty; 
wear  your  old  clothes  if  necessary,  but  do 
right,  and  you  will  be  a  great  man  some  day." 
Had  he  always  done  right?  A  feeling  of 
shame,  when  he  thought  of  his  recent  experi 
ence  with  Mr.  Belden,  came  over  him  and 
brought  a  flush  to  his  brow. 

Quickening  his  gait,  he  moved  onward  with 
a  buoyancy  of  heart  such  as  is  experienced 
only  in  healthy  youth  upon  the  eve  of  some 
expected  joy.  In  a  few  minutes  he  would  be 
home.  He  was  nearing  the  outskirts  of  the 
village,  which  at  that  time  consisted  only  of 
a  few  small  frame  houses,  more  or  less  of  a 
temporary  appearance — the  railroad  build 
ings  in  the  center,  a  tall  grain  warehouse, 
a  store  or  two,  a  small  church  and  schoolhouse 
standing  at  a  respectful  distance  to  one  side. 
Just  before  reaching  the  railroad  track,  from 
which  his  father's  cottage  could  be  seen, 


UP  THE  GRADE  39 

there  was  a  grove  of  trees  to  be  passed,  where 
thick,  overhanging  boughs  cast  a  deep  shadow. 
When  he  reached  the  darkest  spot,  as  if  by 
some  guiding  instinct,  he  felt  the  presence  of 
danger  and  sprang  quickly  forward  just  in 
time  to  elude  the  grasp  of  a  pair  of  strong 
hands  which  were  thrust  out  from  the  dark 
ness  as  if  to  drag  him  to  the  earth.  With 
the  quickness  of  thought  he  had  grappled 
with  a  form  of  great  size  and  strength,  but 
no  match  for  him  in  suppleness  and  courage. 
Before  his  assailant  had  time  to  recover  his 
surprise,  he  found  himself  stretched  upon  the 
earth,  gasping  for  breath  with  a  vice-like 
grip  upon  his  throat. 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  great,  cowardly 
ruffian,  by  attacking  a  stranger  in  this 
manner?  Who  are  you?  And  what  are  you?" 
said  Richard  calmly,  holding  him  in  his  iron 
grasp,  until  he  ceased  struggling  and  tried  to 
speak.  Then  Richard  released  his  hold,  and 
he  scrambled  clumsily  to  his  feet  and  slunk 
away  in  the  darkness  of  the  grove,  muttering 
in  a  hoarse,  muffled  voice,  "You'll  find  out 
soon  enough  who  and  what  I  am!" 

Richard  reached  the  railroad  crossing  and 


40  UP  THE  GRADE 

saw  a  light  in  the  window  of  his  home.  In 
a  moment  his  face  lighted  up — all  traces  of 
his  recent  encounter  disappeared.  Almost 
flying  across  the  intervening  space,  he  threw 
the  door  open,  with  " Hello,  ma!"  and  his 
mother's  arms  were  about  his  neck. 

"Be  careful,  Richard,"  she  cried,  "you  are 
as  strong  as  a  bear!" 

Being  a  frail  little  body,  he  took  her  up  in 
his  strong  arms  and  placed  her  gently  in  an 
old,  wooden  armchair,  which  was  still  rocking 
and  in  which  for  hours  she  had  been  sitting, 
patiently  and  silently  awaiting  his  coming. 
A  table,  meagerly  furnished,  but  with  snowy 
covering,  was  spread  for  two,  and  beside  the 
lamp  lay  a  timeworn,  leather-covered  Bible, 
upon  the  fly  leaf  of  which  was  inscribed, 
evidently  with  a  scratchy  quill  pen  but  still 
legible,  "Presented  to  Aaron  Chester  by  his 
beloved  wife,  September  23rd,  A.  D.  1723." 
Its  yellow  leaves  and  well-worn  pages  testi 
fied  that  it  had  been  well  read  by  the  descend 
ants  of  the  said  Aaron  Chester  through  many 
succeeding  generations. 

"Stir  up  the  fire  a  little,  and  I  will  soon 
have  a  cup  of  tea  for  you,"  said  his  mother, 


UP  THE  GRADE  41 

bustling  about  the  room;  then,  as  with  a 
mother's  intuition  she  detected  something 
in  his  manner  which  told  her  plainly  that 
there  was  a  burden  on  his  mind,  she  said : 

"  I  have  been  worrying  about  my  son  lately. 
I  hope  you  have  not  been  in  danger?  That 
was  a  terrible  storm  that  passed  north  of 
here  tonight.  I  thought  you  would  surely 
be  caught  out  in  it." 

"Yes,  mother,  I  have  been  in  danger,  but 
not  from  the  storm;  that  passed  very  near 
me,  and  I  thought  I  was  going  to  get  a  wetting, 
and  would  if  I  had  been  a  half  mile  farther 
back.  I  was  not  afraid  of  the  storm.  I  like 
to  hear  the  thunder  roar  and  see  the  chain 
lightning.  I  have  been  in  great  danger,  and 
I  came  home  a  week  earlier  than  usual  to  tell 
you  about  it,  and  will  before  I  go  to  bed; 
but  we  will  drop  that  subject  until  I  have  had 
that  cup  of  tea.  My!  but  you  have  some 
thing  'round  here  that  smells  awfully  good." 

As  they  sat  down  to  the  table  Richard 
began  tugging  at  his  coat  pocket  as  though 
he  had  forgotten  something.  Finally  draw 
ing  forth  a  package  neatly  wrapped,  and 
laying  it  beside  her  plate,  he  said : 


42  UP  THE  GRADE 

"When  I  was  working  in  the  back  lot, 
Maggie  put  up  a  lunch  to  take  with  me  every 
day.  The  first  day  she  put  in  some  pickles 
of  the  kind  you  like  so  well,  and  I  told  her 
they  were  great,  and  she  put  in  more  after 
that,  so  I  just  tucked  them  away  to  bring  to 
you.  I  didn't  care  for  them  myself — I  had 
plenty  without  them." 

"It  was  very  good  of  you/'  she  said,  open 
ing  the  package  and  tasting  one,  "they  are 
very  nice/'  then,  rising  hurriedly  so  that 
Richard  did  not  see  her  brush  away  a  tear 
drop,  said,  "I  have  something  for  you  that 
you  like,"  setting  it  before  him. 

"Jiminy!  A  vinegar  pie!"  he  said,  "Hot, 
too !  Now  I  know  what  you  had  in  the  oven, 
so  fat  it  ran  over."  He  went  at  it  with  a 
relish  which  gave  proof  that  she  had  not  for 
gotten  his  favorite  article  of  diet.  Then 
continuing  his  appreciative  comment:  "This 
is  the  best  one  you  ever  made — so  nice  and 
juicy.  I  never  did  like  dry  stuff." 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  in  her  quiet  way, 
"your  almost  abnormal  taste  for  moist  or 
juicy  food  from  your  childhood  has  been  the 
cause  of  some  anxiety  to  me?" 


UP  THE  GRADE  43 

"Why  so,  mother?  I  don't  see  anything 
strange  about  that.  You  have  always  hu 
mored  that  peculiarity  in  cooking  for  me." 

"I  know  I  have,  but  I  have  sometimes 
feared  that  if  you  ever  got  a  taste  of  intoxi 
cating  drinks,  you  might  very  easily  acquire 
an  appetite  for  them."  While  speaking, 
she  resumed  her  seat  in  the  rocking  chair, 
and  Richard,  drawing  a  low  wooden  stool  to 
her  side,  took  her  hand  in  his  and  looking 
into  her  eyes  tenderly  and  earnestly,  said: 

"Mother,  the  danger  I  have  just  passed 
through  was  along  that  line.  I  have  had  a 
taste  of  intoxicating  drink  and  have  had  a 
narrow  escape.  When  that  storm  passed 
so  near  me  tonight  and  made  the  young  trees 
bend  to  the  earth,  while  the  old  and  better- 
rooted  ones  stood  firm  and  strong,  it  made 
me  think  of  my  experience  the  other  day 
when  I  was  in  town  with  Mr.  Belden.  He  has 
been  very  kind  to  me,  and  when  he  offered 
to  play  billiards  with  me,  I  felt  honored; 
and  later  when  he  offered  me  a  drink,  and  I 
saw  him  take  so  many  glasses  of  beer  without 
any  apparent  effect  upon  him,  and  he  declared 
it  was  not  intoxicating,  I  was  too  weak  and 


44  UP  THE  GRADE 

cowardly  to  say  'No'  to  him,  and  before  I 
knew  what  I  was  doing  I  drank  several  glasses, 
and  soon  began  to  feel  it  in  my  head.  I  grew 
dizzy,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  floor  was  rock 
ing  under  my  feet.  He  urged  me  to  drink 
more,  but  I  told  him  I  had  had  too  much  and 
would  not  take  any  more  that  day.  He  got 
so  he  could  hardly  walk,  and  I  had  to  help 
him  into  his  buggy.  When  I  did  so,  he  said : 
'you  are  a  good  fellow.  Before  your  time  is 
out  I  will  have  you  so  you  can  drink  as  much 
as  I  can  and  not  feel  it.'  He  said  the  right 
thing  in  the  right  place  and  at  the  right  time 
for  me.  These  were  the  only  words  he  ever 
spoke  to  me  that  really  did  me  good.  It 
opened  my  eyes  to  my  danger.  I  made  up 
my  mind  right  there  that  I  would  come  home 
and  tell  you  all  about  it,  so  I  wrote  you  that 
I  would  be  home  tonight  instead  of  next 
Saturday  night.  I  came  home  to  take  a 
temperance  pledge" ;  and  reaching  out  and 
taking  the  old  Bible  and  holding  it  in  both 
hands,  he  said : 

"I  do  now  pledge  my  sacred  word  and 
honor  that  I  will  never  again  taste  any  in 
toxicating  drink  whatsoever." 


UP  THE  GRADE  45 

When  he  had  finished,  her  eyes  were  stream 
ing  with  tears. 

She  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  drew 
him  to  her  bosom  as  though  he  were  a  child 
again  and  she  would  shield  him  from  harm. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  straightened  him 
self  to  his  full  height.  "Mother,  from  this 
hour  I  shall  try  to  face  the  world  like  a  man. 
I  came  past  the  Reese  farm  tonight,  and  when 
I  passed  the  gate  I  thought  of  the  time  when 
Annie  said,  '  Always  do  right,  and  you  will  be 
a  great  man  some  day/  and  when  I  thought 
of  my  weakness  in  yielding  to  Mr.  Belden,  I 
felt  like  a  sneak  and  a  coward,  not  worthy  to 
look  her  in  the  face  again." 

"I  have  known  for  a  long  time  that  you 
loved  Annie  Reese,"  said  his  mother,  "and  I 
am  sure  she  loves  you;  shall  I  advise  you?" 

"Yes,  I  always^want  your  advice." 

"Well  then,  go  to  church  tomorrow. — " 

"Today,  you  mean,"  he  interrupted. 

"Yes,  today,  and  walk  home  with  Annie 
as  you  used  to  do,  and  tell  her  the  whole  story 
as  you  have  me.  She  will  believe  you  and 
trust  you  as  I  do." 

"There  are  two  things  that  seem  to  make 


46  UP  THE  GRADE 

that  impossible,"  he  said.  "  In  the  first  place, 
I  don't  look  fit  to  go  to  church  and  go  home 
with  her;  I  am  not  dressed  well  enough.  In 
the  second  place,  my  love  and  respect  for 
her  make  me  afraid  of  her.  I  do  not  feel 
worthy  of  even  her  good-will.  When  I  can 
show  that  I  am  of  some  account  in  the  world, 
if  she  is  free,  I  will  tell  her  of  my  love ;  but  I 
shall  never  ask  her  to  commit  herself  or  make 
any  promise  to  me  until  we  are  both  older  and 
she  has  had  a  chance  to  do  better;  and,  if 
she  chooses  to  do  so,  marry  a  man  who  can 
offer  her  something  more  than  promises." 

"Then  you  will  not  go  to  church?" 

"Yes,  I  will  go  with  you  and  come  home 
with  you,  and  have  a  romp  with  the  children 
and  rest  up  a  little.  I  promised  Mr.  Belden 
I  would  start  back  at  one  o'clock  Monday 
morning." 

Richard  was  awakened  early  by  little 
fingers  trying  to  lift  his  eyelids,  and  the  baby 
voice  of  his  two-year-old  brother  Freddie, 
lisping,  "  Me  turn  in  to  tiss  bruzzer.  Mamma 
say  bruzzer  tired.  Me  want  to  see  him." 

Hurried  footsteps  were  heard,  and  the 
mother  appeared  on  the  scene  with:  "You 


UP  THE  GRADE  47 

little  mischief!  You  got  away  from  me  and 
woke  Richard;  I  wanted  him  to  rest  a  little 
longer  this  morning." 

"  Oh !  I've  rested  enough,  mother.  Where 
are  Eddie  and  Bessie?"  he  asked  while  hur 
riedly  dressing,  stopping  between  times  to 
smother  the  baby  with  kisses. 

The  other  children  came  rushing  in  from 
the  garden  whence  their  mother  had  sent 
them  to  keep  them  from  waking  Richard  in 
their  impatience  to  see  him.  He  greeted  them 
affectionately,  and  they  soon  made  the  house 
ring  with  peals  of  childish  mirth. 

"It  is  too  bad  father  isn't  home  today/' 
he  said,  addressing  his  mother. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "he  will  be  disappointed 
at  not  seeing  you,  but  there  was  no  way  to 
send  word  to  him  after  your  letter  came.  He 
will  be  through  with  his  work  and  be  home 
when  you  come  next  month." 

After  the  morning  meal  the  two  older 
children  were  dressed  in  their  best,  their 
lessons  reviewed,  and  sent  to  Sunday  School 
after  promising  to  "hurry  home  to  take  care 
of  the  baby,  so  Richard  and  mamma  could 
go  to  church." 


48  UP  THE  GRADE 

The  church  was  well  filled  when  Richard 
and  his  mother  entered.  A  quick  glance 
showed  him  that  the  one  whom  his  eyes  and 
heart  sought  most  of  all  was  in  her  accus 
tomed  place  beside  her  parents.  The  sermon 
was  one  of  great  power  and  childlike  faith. 
The  minister — a  gray-haired  man  who  had 
seen  many  years  of  faithful  service  as  a  circuit 
rider — spoke  with  a  radiance  of  countenance 
that  seemed  almost  to  reflect  the  light  of  the 
"Celestial  City."  In  his  discourse  he  re 
ferred  to  the  story  of  Jonah,  emphasizing  his 
utmost  faith  in  every  word  of  the  sacred  book. 
Richard  had  reason  long  after  to  recall  his 
earnestness  and  simple  faith.  When  the  ser 
vice  was  over  there  was  the  usual  hand-shak 
ing  and  kindly  inquiry  after  the  welfare  of 
their  respective  families. 

As  Annie  Reese  and  her  parents  passed  out 
of  the  church,  she  stopped  and  greeted  Mrs. 
Williams  kindly  and  held  out  her  hand  to 
Richard,  and  with  a  pleasant  smile:  "I  am 
glad  to  see  you  once  more,  Richard.  You 
are  looking  well.  I  heard  you  were  coming 
home."  Then  turning  to  his  mother  before 
he  had  time  to  reply,  said,  "I  suppose  you 


church  ^vas  u<ell  filled  when  Richard  and  his  mother  entered. 


UP  THE  GRADE  49 

kept  a  light  in  the  window  as  usual?"  While 
she  was  speaking,  her  father  and  mother  came 
up  and  paused,  as  if  to  interrupt  her.  Richard 
bowed  and  spoke  to  each  in  his  frank,  easy 
way,  but  they  passed  him  without  a  look  or 
word  of  recognition.  The  slight  was  evi 
dently  not  lost  upon  Annie,  who  turned  and 
followed  them  out  of  church  where  they  had 
stopped  to  speak  to  some  of  their  friends. 

When  Richard  reached  the  door,  his  eye 
fell  upon  a  large,  well-dressed  young  man  with 
a  red  necktie,  and  a  flashy  imitation  diamond 
in  his  shirt  front.  He  walked  with  a  clumsy, 
swaggering  gait  over  to  where  Annie  was 
standing  waiting  for  her  parents.  As  he 
spoke,  the  color  mounted  to  her  cheeks  and 
she  was  turning  away  from  him,  when  Mr. 
and  Mr.  Reese  came  up  and  greeted  him 
cordially,  Mrs.  Reese  evidently  inviting  him 
to  go  home  with  them  to  dinner,  for  a  broad 
smile  of  satisfaction  lit  up  his  coarse  features 
and  he  walked  off  beside  Annie  with  a  pro 
prietary  air.  She  turned  for  a  moment 
toward  Richard  and  their  eyes  met.  There 
was  something  in  that  look  which  he  placed 
alongside  of  her  words  at  the  gate  and  treas- 


50  UP  THE  GRADE 

ured  them  in  his  memory  through  the  long 
and  trying  years  to  come.  As  he  walked 
toward  home  he  found  himself  wondering 
where  he  had  met  that  man.  He  could  not 
recall  ever  having  seen  his  face,  and  yet  there 
was  that  about  him  that  made  him  feel  he 
had  met  him  before  that  morning. 

"I  wonder  how  Annie  learned  that  I  was 
coming  home  last  night?  "  he  asked  his  mother. 

"The  children  were  up  at  Jones7  store 
yesterday  and  met  her  there,  and  Eddie  said 
Bessie  told  her  we  expected  you  home.  The 
child  was  so  delighted  over  the  good  news, 
I  presume  she  told  everyone  she  met.  While 
they  were  talking,  Mr.  Jackson,  the  telegraph 
operator,  came  in  and  asked  Bessie  several 
questions  about  you — how  you  were  coming 
home,  what  time  you  would  get  here,  etc. 
That  large  man  you  just  saw  at  the  church 
was  he." 

"Oh!    I  see,"  said  Richard. 


CHAPTER  VII 
His  MOTHER 

SINCE  we  have  become  so  much  interested 
in  this  family,  we  will  go  back  for  a  moment 
and  glance  at  its  antecedents. 

Just  outside  of  the  city  of  New  Haven  there 
stood  a  large  and  beautiful  villa.  Its  general 
appearance,  its  spacious,  well-kept  grounds, 
the  carriage  and  liveried  coachman  passing 
to  and  fro  through  its  wide  iron  gates,  all 
gave  to  it  an  air  of  wealth  and  refinement.  It 
was  the  home  of  Major  Blucher. 

The  Major  and  his  wife  were  sitting  in  his 
library  with  an  open  letter  before  them.  It 
read  as  follows : 

MY  DEAR  MAJOR: 

It  is  with  much  sorrow  that  I  am  again  called  upon 
to  be  the  bearer  of  sad  news.  When  a  few  months  ago 
I  apprised  you  of  the  death  of  Mr.  William  Chester,  I 
little  thought  I  would  so  soon  be  called  upon  to  tell 
you  of  the  death  of  his  wife,  which  occurred  on  the 
10th  ult.  Her  death  was  very  sudden  and  unlocked 
for.  As  attorney  for  the  estate  and  a  friend  of  the 

51 


52  UP  THE  GRADE 

family  of  long  standing,  I  am  called  upon  to  procure  a 
guardian  for  their  only  child,  Mary,  who  is  now  seven 
years  of  age  and  a  most  beautiful  and  lovable  child. 
As  you  know,  owing  to  the  long  sickness  of  Mr.  Chester, 
the  estate  has  been  greatly  reduced.  There  will  be 
little  left,  and  that  will  consist  of  land  in  Illinois,  which 
at  present  is  unsalable.  I  have  dared  to  hope  that  on 
account  of  the  death  of  your  daughter,  you  might 
desire  to  take  Mary  into  your  home. 

Sincerely  yours, 

JOHN  D.  LENNOX. 

Mrs.  Blucher  was  in  tears.  Mrs.  Chester 
had  been  her  dearest  friend  from  childhood. 
"Of  course  we  will  take  her,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  I  am  in  favor  of  doing  so,  but  you 
know  Hezekiah  is  our  only  child.  Children 
growing  up  together  sometimes  get  strange 
notions.  We  might  as  well  think  of  all  these 
things  before  we  decide." 

"  If  you  refer  to  the  possibility  of  marriage, 
while  that  is  not  likely  to  occur,  I  see  nothing 
to  fear  from  that.  She  comes  of  old  Puritan 
stock,  a  family  equal  in  every  way  to  our 
own,  excepting  in  wealth." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Major,  "send  for  her; 
I  am  willing." 


UP  THE  GRADE  53 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  Mary  was  trans 
planted  to  the  Blucher  home  to  be  as  one  of 
the  family.  She  was  a  beautiful  child  with 
large,  deep-blue  eyes,  shaded  with  dark  eye 
brows  and  long  lashes.  With  her  sweet  and 
winning  manners,  she  inherited  the  pride  and 
spirit  of  her  ancestors.  She  was  given  the 
same  educational  advantages  that  were  given 
Hezekiah.  When  her  education  was  finished 
she  had  developed  into  everything  that  her 
young  life  had  promised. 

Hezekiah  had  grown  into  a  rather  wild 
young  man,  whose  greatest  ambition  was  to 
shine  in  society  and  be  a  leader  in  his  clique. 
His  oft-avowed  love  for  Mary  was  as  distaste 
ful  to  her  as  persistent  in  him.  In  refusing 
him,  she  felt  that  she  had  shown  ingratitude 
to  his  parents,  and  her  pride  rebelled  against 
longer  partaking  of  their  bounty  or  living  as 
a  dependent  now  that  she  was  able  to  make 
her  own  way  in  the  world.  It  was  true  that 
what  was  left  of  the  estate  had  been  made 
over  to  her  guardian,  and  she  had  heard  that 
it  had  come  into  some  value — she  only  hoped 
that  it  was  enough  to  repay  them,  and  cared 
not  how  much  more.  Against  the  protests 


54  UP  THE  GRADE 

of  the  family,  she  severed  her  relation  with 
them  and  accepted  a  school  in  a  neighboring 
city.  A  year  later  she  met  and  loved  David 
Williams,  the  overseer  in  a  large  cotton 
factory.  He  was  also  of  good  old  New  Eng 
land  stock,  a  descendant  on  his  mother's  side 
of  the  great  Jonathan  Edwards.  He  was 
born  under  the  shadow  of  "Old  Amherst 
College."  He  traced  his  ancestry — when  he 
cared  to  go  beyond  the  boundary  of  New 
England  with  its  Puritanic  traditions,  of 
which  he  was  very  proud — to  Wales  and 
England ;  she,  to  England  and  the  Highlands 
of  Scotland. 

Theirs  was  a  marriage  of  true  love.  Neither 
possessed  much  more  than  devotion  to  the 
other  and  cheerful  hopefulness  for  the  future. 
Without  practical  knowledge  or  worldly  goods, 
they  obeyed  the  impulse  of  emigration,  doubt 
less  inherited  from  their  pioneer  ancestry, 
and  decided  to  try  their  fortunes  in  the  then 
far  West. 

After  a  long  journey  by  canal  to  the  Great 
Lakes,  through  them  to  Milwaukee,  where 
they  remained  until  they  had  accumulated 
sufficient  to  take  them  to  the  interior  of  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  55 

state,  they  finally  took  land  upon  the  bank  of 
a  beautiful  lake  in  the  town  of  Cadmus.  David 
Williams  possessed  the  requisite  strength  and 
courage  to  have  made  a  great  success  in  life, 
but  he  lacked  practical  experience.  His 
neighbors  said  he  was  "  too  good-hearted  and 
generous,  and  some  even  said  he  was  too 
honest  to  make  money  or  to  stand  up  for  his 
rights."  He  was  a  hard  worker,  but  a  poor 
collector.  Their  only  wealth  was  love  and 
a  clear  conscience — possibly  there  can  be  no 
greater.  He  had  been  reared  in  the  Congre 
gational  Church,  and  that  had  been  the  church 
of  her  mother;  but  during  her  stay  at  the 
Blucher  home  she  had  been  a  communicant 
of  the  Episcopal  Church.  Having  gone  be 
yond  the  pales  of  either  and  the  Methodist 
circuit-rider  having  found  them  in  their  log 
house  on  their  lakeside  farm,  they  both  gladly 
identified  themselves  with  his  work  and  the 
church  which  sent  him  out  into  the  wilderness 
with  his  hymn  book  and  his  Bible. 

When  Mary  Williams  looked  for  the  first 
time  upon  the  face  of  her  new-born  boy,  she 
prayed  that  he  might  become  "a  man  after 
God's  own  heart7'  and  be  endowed  with  force 


56  UP  THE  GRADE 

of  character  and  moral  courage  sufficient  to 
make  for  himself  an  honored  place  in  the 
world.  As  he  grew  to  boyhood,  her  hope  and 
his  turned  to  their  oldest  boy.  His  father 
would  say :  "  That  boy  has  a  head  on  him  for 
business.  When  he  grows  up,  I  believe  he 
will  bring  comfort  and  affluence  to  you  such 
as  has  been  out  of  my  power  to  do." 

Between  the  teachings  of  the  two,  his  ear 
liest  impression  of  life  was,  as  he  put  it  in  after 
years,  that  his  "  only  mission  on  earth  was  to 
help  his  father."  How  faithfully  and  unsel 
fishly  he  had  adhered  to  that  early  impression, 
up  to  the  time  of  our  acquaintance  with  him, 
has  already  been  told. 

With  this,  we  trust  pardonable,  digression, 
we  will  again  return  to  the  Williams'  cottage. 

The  hands  of  the  clock  were  pointing  to 
twelve,  midnight,  when  Richard  was  called 
by  his  mother  while  she  was  "getting  him 
something  warm,"  as  she  put  it.  He  dressed 
himself  and  sat  down  to  the  table.  His 
mother,  seating  herself  near  him,  said : 

"I  have  been  thinking  that  you  may  have 
been  making  a  mistake  in  working  so  hard  at 


UP  THE   GRADE  57 

manual  labor.  Do  you  not  think  it  would  be 
better  for  you  to  strike  out  for  yourself  and 
try  to  fit  yourself  for  something  in  the  business 
world?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  have  thought  so  for  several 
years,  but  there  has  never  seemed  to  be  a 
time  when  I  could  be  spared — there  is  always 
something  pressing." 

"And  there  always  will  be,"  she  said. 
"You  might  as  well  break  away  one  time  as 
another.  The  children  are  getting  so  they 
can  help  quite  a  little.  We  will  get  on  some 
way.  It  will  be  very  hard  for  all  of  us  to  be 
parted  from  you,  but  I  think  it  is  best.  You 
will  be  through  at  Mr.  Belden's  in  September. 
Perhaps  you  can  be  in  school  this  winter. 
See  if  you  cannot  study  up  some  plan." 

His  heart  gave  a  great  bound  at  the  thought 
of  such  a  possibility. 

"I  will  do  so,"  he  said  thoughtfully. 

("  Now,  Richard,  you  must  soon  be  on  your 
way;  let  us  ask  for  guidance." 

He  had  heard  his  mother  offer  only  the 
prayers  of  childhood  as  she  taught  them  to 
the  children,  but  he  knew  she  often  held 
communion  with  God  in  her  own  silent  way. 


58  UP  THE  GRADE 

His  father  always  conducted  the  family  wor 
ship,  and  his  form  of  prayer  was  easy  from 
long  practice,  but  Richard  felt  embarrassed 
now  for  his  mother,  fearing  that  this  effort 
might  embarrass  her.  She  dropped  her  head 
and  sat  for  several  minutes  in  silence;  not  a 
sound  broke  the  stillness  save  the  ticking  of 
the  old  "wooden  clock"  upon  the  shelf.  In 
the  dim  light,  Richard  saw  gather  about  her 
head  that  "aura"  or  "halo"  which,  seen  so 
seldom,  is  looked  upon  by  many  as  mysterious, 
but  which  is  now  clearly  understood  by  the 
student  of  mental  phenomena  and  scientifi 
cally  accounted  for  as  etheric  vibrations — 
visible  emanations — arising  from  the  purity 
of  the  thought  of  persons  of  a  highly  organized 
nervous  temperament  and  spiritually  minded. 
A  French  scientist  has  obtained  photographs 
of  these  emanations  and  tells  us  that  they 
often  appear  in  various  shades  of  color  which 
are  believed  to  indicate  the  state  of  mental 
health  as  well  as  the  moral  state. 

She  began  speaking  in  a  low  conversational 
tone  of  voice  as  if  speaking  to  a  well-known 
friend  who  was  present  with  her,  or  who  lived 
within  her,  between  whom  and  herself  there 


UP  THE  GRADE  59 

was  a  sympathy  and  confidence  born  of  a  long 
and  close  acquaintance. 

"As  Richard  goes  back  to  his  work — to 
temptation  and  dangers,  he  will  rely  too  much 
on  his  own  strength.  May  he  learn  to  draw 
from  that  indwelling  source  of  power  which 
is  ever  present  with  him.  May  he  be  guided 
aright.  May  he  have  moral  courage  equal 
to  his  physical  strength  and  may  that  be 
increased.  I  cannot  tell  the  Infinite  of  the 
great  hope  of  his  parents  with  respect  to  his 
future,  that  is  all  known.  May  as  much  as 
is  reasonable  and  proper  be  realized.  May 
his  thoughts  be  pure,  his  aspirations  and 
ideals  high  and  noble,  and  his  mental  con 
ceptions  be  increased  and  renewed  from  day 
to  day." 

The  words  and  manner  of  expression  of  his 
mother  had  a  marvellous  effect  upon  the  mind 
of  Richard.  She  has  given  him  in  that  brief 
period,  through  the  suggestion  of  holy  thought 
and  true  prayer,  the  key  which  will  unlock  to 
him  the  store-house  of  all  power,  whence  he 
may  draw  that  which  will  be  sufficient  for 
him  in  the  days  of  trial  which  await  him — if 
he  will  but  use  it. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  "SILENT  ORACLE" 

A  FEW  days  after  Richard  returned  to  his 
work  Mr.  Belden  again  sent  him  to  the  Lake 
with  a  load  of  grain. 

White  Wolf  Lake  was  a  bustling  little  rail 
road  town  some  six  miles  distant  from  the 
Belden  farm,  situated  on  the  bank  of  a  beauti 
ful  lake  from  which  it  derived  its  name.  The 
farmers  always  spoke  of  it  as  "The  Lake." 

As  upon  a  previous  occasion,  Mr.  Belden 
drove  over  to  town  in  his  buggy  and  met 
Richard  there.  After  their  business  had 
been  attended  to,  Mr.  Belden  invited  him 
to  have  a  game  of  billiards  and  "  a  glass  of 
something  good  to  cheer  him  up  for  his  drive 
home." 

Without  noticing  the  invitation,  Richard 
reminded  him  that  they  had  forgotten  the 
extras  for  the  reaper,  and  getting  into  the 
wagon,  said,  "I  will  get  them  and  perhaps  I 
can  get  home  in  time  to  get  some  of  the 

60 


UP  THE   GRADE  61 

machinery  set  up."  Mr.  Belden  stood  looking 
after  him,  wondering  whether  his  hasty  de 
parture  was  really  to  get  the  machinery  ready 
for  the  harvest  which  was  soon  to  begin,  or 
to  avoid  going  into  the  saloon.  At  any  rate 
he  had  gone,  and  Mr.  Belden  walked  into  the 
saloon. 

A  short  distance  out  of  the  village  an  old 
man  was  walking  along  the  dusty  road  on  his 
way  home  from  town.  He  was  a  tall  man, 
angular  and  bony.  He  wore  a  long  linen 
duster  over  a  well-worn  black  suit,  and  carried 
a  stout  hickory  stick.  He  was  on  the  shady 
side  of  sixty,  but  his  movements  were  smooth 
and  easy  and  his  erect  bearing  that  of  a  man 
much  younger.  A  pair  of  black  horses  pulled 
up  by  his  side,  and  a  friendly  voice  said, 
"Won't  you  ride,  sir?"  As  he  turned  his 
face  to  view  and  it  lighted  up  with  a  pleasant 
smile  and  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  large  eyes, 
anyone  who  had  known  the  martyred  Presi 
dent  would  have  said,  "Here  is  Abraham 
Lincoln  in  the  flesh  again."  The  resemblance 
was  so  striking  as  to  almost  cause  a  creeping 
sensation  to  pass  over  one  who  might  chance 
to  have  a  superstitious  thread  woven  into  his 


62  UP  THE   GRADE 

nature — and  those  who  have  not  such  a  thread 
are  the  exception.  He  climbed  into  the 
spring  seat  by  the  side  of  Richard  without 
speaking,  but  face  and  manner  showed  his 
appreciation  of  the  spirit  of  the  invitation 
more  emphatically  than  would  be  possible 
by  words.  He  talked  with  his  eyes,  his  facial 
muscles,  the  inclination  of  the  head,  the  gentle 
inspiration  or  expiration  of  breath,  the  lifting 
or  contracting  of  the  eyebrows,  the  manner  of 
laying  a  hand  upon  the  shoulder,  the  simple 
gesture.  A  hearty  laugh  sometimes  broke 
from  his  lips.  He  never  pronounced  an  audible 
word  unless  he  had  something  to  say.  A  direct 
question  he  would  answer  in  words  when  some 
of  his  many  means  of  communication  would 
answer  infinitely  better.  With  one  who  had 
sufficient  intelligence  to  follow  him;  words 
from  him  were  largely  unnecessary.  When 
his  powerful  mind  came  in  contact  with  an 
obtuse  or  indolent  one,  he  was  uninteresting, 
often  dozed,  or  appeared  to,  while  the  other 
wasted  his  breath  in  small  talk.  His  mind 
was  thermometrical,  sensitive  in  the  highest 
degree,  rising  or  falling  in  ready  response  to 
the  intellectual  atmosphere  which  surrounded 


UP  THE   GRADE  63 

him.  It  must  not  be  understood  that  he 
never  spoke  more  than  an  occasional  mono 
syllable.  When  deeply  interested  or  great 
emphasis  was  called  for,  he  spoke  in  a  voice 
of  gentleness  and  sweetness  which  at  once 
captivated  the  hearer.  At  such  times  his 
conversation  was  usually  allegorical;  then, 
when  the  gist  of  his  words  was  comprehended, 
the  lesson  was  never  forgotten.  When  other 
wise,  his  auditor  lost  much.  Lest  the  reader 
may  be  shocked  by  some  unexpected  outburst 
from  him,  it  may  be  well  to  say  here  that  when 
deeply  stirred  or  righteously  indignant,  the 
language  employed  by  him  was  not  always  as 
elegant  as  the  thought  conveyed  was  truthful 
and  impressive.  The  youthful  pioneer,  when 
perusing  the  note  from  his  loved  one  far  away, 
becomes  so  absorbed  by  the  words  it  contains 
that  he  forgets  the  dusty,  rough  stagecoach 
which  brought  it  to  him.  So  may  the  gems 
of  truth  which  come  through  this  wise  man's 
interpretation  of  true  homiletics  be  received 
by  the  reader  as  they  sparkle  in  the  pages 
to  come. 

They  rode  on  in  silence  for  some  moments, 
when  Richard  turned  and  looking  squarely 


64  UP  THE  GRADE 

into  the  great  kindly  eye  that  met  his,  said 
in  his  frank,  distinct  style : 

"You  are  Mr.  Abraham  Yale,  are  you  not?" 

Without  speaking,  he  answered  by  slightly 
inclining  the  head  and  a  searching  glance  that 
he  was,  and  asked  who  Richard  was.  He 
received  the  prompt  answer : 

"My  name  is  Richard  Williams.  I  am 
Mr.  Belden's  hired  man." 

A  smile  and  raising  of  the  eyebrows  called 
for  not  an  apology  but  an  explanation,  which 
came  quickly. 

"Oh,  I  have  worked  out  ever  since  I  was 
a  small  boy." 

Another  look  of  sympathetic  inquiry  which 
Richard  understood  instinctively*  He  knew 
he  had  found  a  friend,  although  he  had  never 
heard  his  voice.  This  strange  man  had  by 
some  psychological  power  at  once  broken 
the  bonds  of  his  natural  reserve;  and  moved 
by  some  irresistible  impulse,  he  began  speak 
ing  to  him  with  as  much  freedom  as  he  would 
to  his  father  or  mother.  He  knew  that 
Abraham  Yale  was  interested  in  him,  and 
wanted  to  know  more  about  him. 

"You  want  to  know  why  I  am  working  as 


UP  THE  GRADE  65 

a  farm  laborer?  Ever  since  I  can  remember 
our  family  has  been  haunted  by  poverty. 
Its  twin  sister — pride — has  kept  it  close 
company.  They  do  not  go  well  together. 
I  am  too  proud  to  be  poor.  I  am  too  proud 
to  go  through  the  world  without  more  educa 
tion.  I  am  not  too  proud  to  be  called  'Mr. 
Belden's  hired  man/  I  would  gladly  work 
much  harder,  if  by  doing  so,  I  could  make 
my  father's  burden  lighter." 

Just  then  a  red  fox  stole  stealthily  across 
the  road  and  disappeared  in  a  clump  of 
bushes,  from  which  a  robin  flew  fluttering 
away,  imitating  a  wounded  bird  to  draw 
attention  from  her  nest.  Mr.  Yale  pointed 
at  them,  saying  in  words : 

"Foxes — birds  of  the  air." 

"  Yes,"  said  Richard  thoughtfully.  "  Foxes 
have  holes,  and  birds  of  the  air  have  nests, 
but  the  son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay 
his  head.  He  was  poor.  I  said,  'I  was  too 
proud  to  be  poor.'  Perhaps  one  should  be 
proud  to  be  born  poor." 

Our  young  friend  was  naturally  a  deep 
thinker;  his  mind  was  of  the  analytical 
turn.  The  responsibilities  of  life  early  thrust 


66  UP  THE  GRADE 

upon  him,  together  with  an  honest  sincerity 
of  purpose,  perfect  habits  and  healthful  exer 
cise,  had  surcharged  his  blood  with  mental 
pabulum,  and  given  him  a  mind  beyond  his 
years. 

The  timely  suggestion  of  his  new-found 
friend  had  sent  his  thoughts  beyond  the  ter 
restrial,  and  for  the  moment  no  words  came 
to  give  them  expression. 

Richard  was  growing.  His  silent  oracle 
sat  watching  his  face  with  intense  interest 
and  evident  satisfaction,  as  if  he  could  see 
his  mind  working  out  the  greatest  problem 
of  life,  viz. :  the  relation  of  the  mortal  to  the 
immortal — the  finite  to  the  Infinite. 

When  Richard  spoke,  he  said  quietly: 

"I  think  I  get  your  thought,  Mr.  Yale. 
I  will  endeavor  to  profit  by  it." 

Mr.  Yale  laid  his  hand  softly  on  the  lines. 
They  had  reached  the  forks  in  the  road. 

"No,"  said  Richard,  "I  will  drive  'round 
by  your  house — it  is  only  a  little  farther  that 
way." 

Nothing  more  was  said  by  either  until  they 
had  nearly  reached  the  home  of  Mr.  Yale, 
when  Richard  said : 


UP  THE   GRADE  67 

"May  I  come  to  you  for  advice,  Mr.  Yale, 
before  I  leave  Mr.  Belden?  I  am  quite  un 
decided  as  to  my  future  course.  Will  I  be 
presuming  too  much  to  ask  to  come  and  see 
you  occasionally?" 

Mr.  Yale  got  down  from  the  wagon  and 
turning  grasped  his  hand  firmly  and  said: 
"Welcome  at  any  time." 

When  Richard  reached  the  farm  that 
evening,  Maggie  came  out  as  he  drove  up, 
and  asked  him  when  Mr.  Belden  would  be 
home. 

"I  cannot  say/'  he  answered.  "When  I 
saw  him  last,  he  was  just  going  into  Jake 
Schmitz's  saloon." 

"Well,  you  had  better  be  on  the  lookout 
for  him  when  he  does  come  home,"  she  said 
with  a  light  laugh,  "so  you  can  look  after  his 
horse.  He  took  the  demijohn,  he  said,  to 
get  some  'extract  of  snakeroot'  for  the  harvest 
hands.  He  may  come  home  winkin'  and 
blinkin'." 

"Very  well,"  he  replied,  "I  will  do  so." 

Giving  a  sudden  start,  she  said:  "There! 
Pve  left  the  Johnny  cake  in  the  oven — I'll 
bet  it's  burnt.  Your  supper  is  waiting. 


68  UP  THE   GRADE 

You'd  better  eat  before  you  do  your  chores/7 
and  turning,  she  ran  in  her  fastest  waddling 
gait  toward  the  house.  It  was  evident  she 
had  something  more  she  wished  to  say,  for 
when  he  went  in  to  his  supper,  where  he 
found  her  scraping  the  scorched  surface  of  a 
rather  overdone  loaf  of  corn  bread,  at  which 
he  remarked  jokingly  that  "  Johnny  cake  was 
much  better  well  done  than  rare,"  she  re 
plied,  "You  came  home  sober  tonight,  I  see." 

"I  never  came  home  any  other  way," he 
answered  curtly. 

"  I  heard  Mr.  Belden  say  that  the  last  time 
you  went  to  the  Lake  with  him  you  got  pretty 
boozy.  He  said  you  took  to  it  like  a  duck 
to  water.  Was  that  so?" 

His  face  colored  a  deep  crimson,  and  at 
first  he  made  no  reply,  but  the  question  was 
so  direct  and  put  in  such  a  kindly  tone  and 
manner,  he  answered:  "I  did  drink  several 
glasses  with  him  and  felt  it  some,  but  the 
effect  wore  off  long  before  I  got  home.  It 
was  my  first  and  it  will  be  my  last." 

"I  really  hope  it  will  be  the  last  you  will 
ever  drink  with  him — or  anyone  else.  I 
wanted  to  say  this  to  you  this  morning  before 


UP  THE  GRADE  69 

you  started  for  town,  but  I  didn't  have  a 
chance  to.  I  have  seen  a  lot  of  drinking  in 
my  day  and  never  knew  it  to  do  anyone  any 
good.'* 

"It  shall  be  my  last/'  he  said  firmly. 

"By  the  way,  when  are  you  going  home 
again?"  she  asked. 

"  I  hardly  think  I  shall  go  until  after  har 
vest.  I  shall  be  most  too  tired  to  walk  there 
and  back  while  I  am  in  the  harvest  field." 

"  I  think  it's  a  shame  that  you  have  to  walk. 
Mr.  Belden  ought  to  let  you  drive  Maid  over. 
It  wouldn't  hurt  her  a  bit." 

"It  is  kind  of  you  to  suggest  it,"  he  said, 
"but  I  don't  think  Mr.  Belden  would  want 
me  to  drive  her,  and  besides  it  might  worry 
mother  to  see  me  driving  a  race  horse.  Thank 
you  just  the  same." 

He  saw  that  in  her  way  she  was  his  friend, 
and  it  afforded  him  much  comfort,  coming 
from  a  source  so  unlocked  for. 

He  had  another  friend  in  the  same  house 
hold,  as  he  afterwards  found,  that  heretofore 
he  would  not  have  known  whether  to  count 
as  such  or  not.  Judge  Densmore  had  felt 
himself  drawn  toward  him  and  was  growing 


70  UP  THE  GRADE 

interested  in  him  in  a  degree  which  he  would 
hardly  have  acknowledged  to  himself,  much 
less  to  Mr.  Belden. 

By  his  manliness,  Richard  was  uncon 
sciously  winning  his  way  to  the  heart  and 
sympathy  of  both  Maggie  and  the  Judge. 
In  fact,  he  had  been  the  subject  of  several 
conversations  between  them.  No  mention 
had  been  made  by  the  Judge  of  the  various 
plans  to  ruin  him  which  were  incubating  in 
the  heart  of  Mr.  Belden,  and  Maggie  had 
probably  never  dreamed  that  the  young  man 
was  the  target  of  malicious  persecution. 

Judge  Densmore's  growing  interest  in 
Richard  had  in  a  measure  softened  his  char 
acter,  or  at  least  broken  the  crust  of  his 
naturally  selfish  disposition,  and  he  found 
himself  wishing  he  could  do  something  for 
him.  He  had  mentioned  this  desire  to  Maggie, 
but  she  told  him  that  an  offer  of  a  gift  would 
be  spurned  by  him;  that  he  was  too  proud 
and  high-spirited  to  accept  anything  for 
which  he  could  not  return  full  value. 

While  Richard  was  at  his  supper  the  Judge 
came  in,  and,  after  putting  away  his  fishing 
tackle  and  giving  an  account  of  his  afternoon's 


UP  THE  GRADE  71 

sport,  told  Richard  he  thought  of  going  to 
the  Lake  with  him  in  the  morning.  Richard 
told  him  that  he  expected  to  go  and  would 
be  glad  to  have  company. 

When  Mr.  Belden  arrived  later  in  the 
evening,  it  was  quite  apparent  that  Maggie's 
prediction  had  come  true.  If  "winkin'  and 
blinkin'"  in  her  vocabulary  was  intended  to 
describe  a  state  of  intoxication  of  a  type 
peculiar  to  this  particular  individual,  her 
words  were  well  chosen.  It  was  with  con 
siderable  effort  that  he  found  his  way  into 
the  house,  as  he  tugged  at  a  large  demijohn 
which,  from  its  weight  or  the  unsteady  move 
ments  of  its  liquid  contents,  made  locomotion 
exceedingly  difficult.  When  he  finally  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  himself  into  the  house  and 
the  huge  demijohn  located  in  its  accustomed 
place,  he  straightened  himself  up,  and  assum 
ing  an  air  of  dignity,  his  forehead  wrinkled, 
his  eyes  opening  and  closing  with  great 
rapidity,  speaking  very  slowly  and  addressing 
no  one  in  particular,  he  said : 

"There  seems  to  have  been  a  change  in 
the  weather.  I  note  the  presence  of  caloric 
in  the  air  to  a  much  greater  extent  than 


72  UP  THE   GRADE 

earlier  in  the  day.  Caloric  combined  with 
an  equal  quantity  of  humidity  may  produce 
precipitation  and  other  atmospheric  dis 
turbances." 

While  he  was  delivering  himself  of  this 
scholarly  (?)  jargon,  Maggie  poured  some 
strong  coffee,  which  she  had  in  waiting  for 
the  occasion.  He  drank  down  several  cups 
and  went  to  his  room  where  he  was  soon 
sleeping  off  the  effects  of  Jake  Schmitz's 
hospitality. 

When  he  made  his  appearance  late  the  next 
day,  it  was  evident  that  he  was  not  in  feeling 
or  appearance  yet  fully  restored  to  his  normal 
condition,  but  he  was  no  doubt  still  flattering 
himself  that  he  "could  drink  as  much  as  he 
pleased  and  not  feel  it,  or  show  it  in  the  least." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"WILD  OATS" 

WHEN  Annie  Reese  left  the  little  church 
in  company  with  Bill  Jackson  and  her  parents 
on  that  bright  summer  day,  long  to  be  remem 
bered,  she  was  in  a  very  unhappy  frame  of 
mind.  She  had  seen  and  been  deeply  hurt 
by  the  treatment  Richard  had  received  from 
her  father  and  mother,  but  the  cause  of  their 
actions  was  a  deep  mystery  to  her.  The 
coarse  and  impudent  manners  of  the  telegraph 
operator  toward  her,  and  the  partiality  so 
plainly  shown  by  both  of  her  parents  for  him, 
why  they  should  both  slight  Richard  and  then 
her  mother  invite  this  man,  of  whom  they 
knew  so  little,  to  their  home,  were  problems 
she  could  not  solve.  Jackson  had  called  at 
the  Reese  home  frequently  and  forced  his 
attentions  upon  her  with  so  much  ill-bred 
arrogance  that  his  presence  was  to  her  un 
bearable  in  the  extreme  Her  brothers  had 
taken  quite  a  liking  to  him.  He  knew  all 

73 


74  UP  THE  GRADE 

about  horses,  though  he  had  never  hinted  that 
he  had  been  a  jockey  and  had  handled  horses 
on  the  race  track.  The  Reese  boys  were  very 
proud  of  their  own  Morgan  colts,  and  delighted 
in  bringing  them  out  and  showing  them  off 
before  Jackson,  who  showed  the  boys  the 
strong  and  weak  points  of  their  respective 
colts,  proving  by  the  copious  use  of  horse  lore 
that  the  one  belonging  to  Owen,  the  younger 
brother,  which  they  had  considered  the  least 
promising,  was  by  far  the  better  of  the  two — 
this  to  the  great  delight  of  Owen,  and  the 
chagrin  of  his  brother  Thomas.  Could  it  be 
possible  that  the  plain  dress  and  unobtrusive 
manners  of  Richard,  contrasted  with  the 
flashy  dress  and  patronizing  air  of  this  coarse, 
brainless  fellow,  had  turned  the  heads  of  this 
staid  old  couple?  Her  reason  told  her  that 
this  could  not  be  the  cause.  Then  what  was 
it?  As  they  walked  along  he  made  several 
attempts  to  draw  her  into  conversation.  He 
spoke  of  the  beauty  of  the  day;  but  she  saw 
not  the  sweet  violets,  forget-me-nots  and 
lady's  slippers  that  peeped  up  from  the  mosses 
that  grew  under  the  shadow  of  the  hedgerow; 
she  heard  not  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  Bob- 


UP  THE  GRADE  75 

white,  which  came  across  the  meadow  from 
his  perch  on  the  old  stake-and-rider  fence, 
nor  the  sweet  happy  notes  of  the  thrush,  the 
robin  and  the  catbird,  as  their  mates  flew  in 
and  out  among  the  red  raspberry  bushes 
along  the  roadside,  staining  their  beaks  with 
the  ripe,  luscious  berries.  Nor  did  she  notice 
the  rich  perfume  of  the  sweet  clover  and 
spearmint,  now  in  full  bloom,  filled  with 
nectar  to  overflowing  from  which  the  honey 
bees  were  sipping  the  sweetness.  All  of  these 
beautiful  things  of  nature  which  she  loved  so 
well,  and  which  had  woven  themselves  into 
her  young,  sweet  life,  were  lost  to  her  today. 
Never  by  thought  or  deed  had  Annie  shown 
aught  but  the  deepest  respect  for  and  gentle 
obedience  to  her  parents.  Had  she  been 
asked  yesterday,  she  would  hardly  have  dared 
to  say  that  she  loved  Richard.  Today,  when 
she  saw  him  walk  away  from  the  church  with 
his  mother,  when  she  saw  the  blood  mount 
to  his  tired,  sunburnt  face,  when  she  saw  his 
proud  spirit  insulted  by  her  own  parents,  as 
she  believed,  without  cause,  there  had  come 
instantaneously  over  her  whole  being  a  com 
plete  and  lasting  transformation. 


76  UP  THE  GRADE 

The  girl  Annie  had  gone  forever  and  in  her 
place  stood  a  being  crowned  with  the  queenly 
strength  and  glory  of  womanhood.  She 
knew  now  that  she  loved  Richard  and  had 
loved  him  ever  since  she  had  first  come  to 
know  him.  Had  he  asked  her,  she  would 
have  told  him,  and  promised  to  wait,  if  need 
be,  for  years  until  he  should  come  to  claim 
his  own.  O  Richard,  will  your  pride  blind  your 
eyes?  Will  you  lose  this  priceless  pearl,  the 
richest  treasure  this  world  holds  for  you? 
The  greatest  gift  of  God  to  man,  a  true 
woman's  true  love?  Could  our  young  friend 
only  know  of  her  love  for  him,  would  it  not 
be  an  incentive  to  a  higher  and  more  exalted 
ambition?  No.  His  love  for  her  and  the 
hope  that  he  may  in  some  way  carve  out 
such  a  life  for  himself  that  she  and  her  par 
ents,  too,  may  be  proud  to  count  him  as  their 
own,  has  already  aroused  the  highest  and 
noblest  impulses  of  his  nature.  He  has  de 
cided  wisely.  He  has  started  well.  Will  he 
weather  the  storms  and  temptations  which 
beset  the  pathway  of  every  man-child  born 
upon  earth?  Will  he  stand  the  test?  Or  will 
his  life  be  stained  and  tarnished  by  that  black 


UP  THE  GRADE  77 

and  damning  period  of  lustful  licentiousness, 
self-destroying,  conscience-searing  gratifica 
tion  of  the  lower  life,  which  the  senseless  and 
thoughtless  condone  and  laugh  at,  and  call 
"sowing  wild  oats"?  Oh,  that  these  three 
words,  used  as  generally  understood,  lightly 
and  apologetically,  covering  in  an  excusatory 
sense  the  lapses  of  early  manhood  with  all 
the  wicked  and  damning  suggestions  implied, 
could  be  forever  stricken  from  human  thought 
and  utterance;  and  by  healthful  suggestion, 
the  thoughts  of  sweet  and  tender  childhood 
be  properly  directed.  Then  the  divorce  court 
would  be  unknown — the  saloon  and  brothel, 
those  twin  sisters  of  iniquity,  which  consti 
tute  the  blackest  curse  that  ever  visited  this 
round  earth  or  stained  the  flag  of  a  nation, 
would  die  out  for  want  of  fuel.  The  songs 
which  the  shepherds  heard  would  again  re 
sound  throughout  the  glad  earth,  and  the 
Christ  who  died  for  all  would  not  have  died 
in  vain. 

A  moment  ago,  dear  reader,  we  were  walk 
ing  along  the  country  road  with  that  little 
party  toward  the  home  of  Daniel  Reese.  We 
were  looking  into  the  pure  life  and  thoughts 


78  UP  THE  GRADE 

of  his  beautiful  daughter.  When  we  saw  the 
possibilities  of  that  sweet  life  being  blighted, 
and  her  fond,  trusting  heart  broken  by  the 
snares  which  are  being  laid  about  the  foot 
steps  of  the  one  she  loves,  by  the  cruel 
machinations  of  a  fiend  in  human  form,  for 
the  moment  we  could  no  more  resist  the 
chain  of  thought  which  would  take  us  to  her 
rescue,  than  we  would  desist  from  rushing 
through  fire  and  smoke  to  rescue  an  innocent 
babe  from  the  hungry  flames. 


CHAPTER  X 

"UNCLE  NATE" 

ANNIE  REESE  did  not  speak  to  the  tall  man 
who  walked  beside  her,  but  gradually  and 
slowly  fell  behind  him  until  she  came  beside 
her  mother.  Then  her  father,  stepping  for 
ward  with  a  look  of  reproof,  walked  on  ahead 
of  them  with  him  whom  she  looked  upon  as 
an  intruder. 

As  they  came  near  the  grove,  the  scene  of 
Richard's  midnight  encounter  with  an  un 
known  foe,  they  noticed  an  old  hunter  and 
trapper,  who  was  a  familiar  figure  in  that 
neighborhood,  known  as  "Nate"  Green, 
scanning  the  roadway,  as  if  tracing  the  trail 
of  a  wounded  deer.  He  had  in  his  day  been 
a  famous  hunter;  and  many  were  the  stories 
told  of  his  hair-breadth  escapes  from  the 
hostile  Indians;  and  it  was  said  that  his 
cunning  in  following  a  blind  trail  was  equal 
to  that  of  the  Indians  themselves;  and  that 
he  alone  on  several  occasions  had  penetrated 

79 


80  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  wilds  and  plucked  a  captive  from  their 
cruel  grasp,  outwitting  them  in  craftiness. 

The  curiosity  of  the  Reese  family  was 
aroused  by  his  queer  actions,  for  Indians  and 
even  the  larger  wild  game  had  long  ago  dis 
appeared  from  that  locality.  When  they 
reached  him,  Mr.  Reese  asked  him  what  he 
was  looking  for.  He  said,  "It  looks  to  me 
as  if  there  was  some  kind  of  a  scrimmage  here 
last  night,"  and  he  called  Mr.  Reese  and  the 
ladies  to  the  roadside ;  Jackson,  having  walked 
slowly  on,  was  waiting  for  them  a  few  steps 
ahead. 

"Yer  see,  Mr.  Reese,  thar  has  sure  bin  a 
tussel  right-cher,  and  a  purty  big  un  too,  but 
I  don't  see  no  blood  or  nothin'  to  show  that 
no  one  was  hurted  much.  One  fellow  was 
waitin'  for  somebody.  I  seen  his  tracks  up 
'long  the  road  wher  he  bin  waitin'  or  listenin' 
and  when  the  other  fellow  come  along,  he 
tackled  him,  and  got  wollered  in  the  road 
right-cher." 

They  were  all  greatly  interested,  and  Mr. 
Reese  asked  if  he  had  any  idea  who  it  was. 

"Of  coas  I  ain't,"  said  the  old  hunter.  "I 
hain't  learnt  to  tell  the  color  of  a  mans  eye 


UP  THE  GRADE  81 

by  his  track,  with  his  boots  on.  I'm  jest 
tellin'  yer  w'at  tuk  place  at  this  lonely  spot 
sometime  late  in  the  night.  Cum  back  her'  a 
minnit,  young  feller,  and  step  in  this  track. 
I  reckon  this  feller  must  have  bin  as  big  as 
you  be." 

To  this  Jackson  drawled  out : 

"Oh,  you  go  'long!  I  don't  take  no  stock 
in  what  every  old  tramp  says." 

"  But  he  is  no  tramp,  Mr.  Jackson.  I  have 
known  Uncle  Nate  as  long  as  I  can  remember. 
What  he  says  is  true,  every  word."  Annie 
spoke  with  fire  in  her  eyes  and  a  voice  that 
showed  she  had  a  mind  of  her  own,  and  wasn't 
afraid  to  use  it. 

Mr.  Reese  joined  Jackson,  and  they  all 
walked  along  in  the  same  order  as  before. 
The  old  hunter  stood  looking  after  them  with 
anger  upon  every  feature.  A  little  later 
Annie  glanced  back  and  saw  him  examining 
the  footprints  of  Jackson,  where  he  had  been 
standing  waiting  for  them. 

When  they  reached  the  Reese  farm,  Jackson 
passed  on  to  the  barn,  "  to  have  a  look  at  the 
colts,"  he  said.  Not  finding  the  boys,  he 
came  back  to  the  house  and  proceeded  to 


82  UP  THE  GRADE 

make  himself  at  home,  and  went  off  into  an 
exhaustive  dissertation  on  the  subject  of 
horses,  to  the  great  edification  of  Thomas 
and  Owen,  who  had  entered  and  were  taking 
in  what  he  said  in  open-mouthed  wonderment. 

When  the  family  were  seated  at  the  table, 
it  took  several  minutes  of  waiting  before  he 
stopped  long  enough  to  allow  Mr.  Reese  to 
say  grace,  that  being  a  ceremony  to  which 
he  was  evidently  unaccustomed.  He  waxed 
so  eloquent  upon  his  favorite  theme  that  he 
so  forgot  himself  as  to  say,  "When  I  was 
driving  Maid  of  the  West/'  when  Owen 
interrupted  him  with : 

"Maid  of  the  West!  Why,  she  is  one  of 
the  fastest  trotters,  isn't  she?7' 

"  Well,  now  you  are  talking.  I  drove  her 
the  fastest  heat  she  ever  trotted.  Trot?  Why, 
boys,  she  is  a  hairy  hurricane  on  four  legs, 
she's  the  coming  horse." 

Thomas,  speaking  to  his  mother  in  a  low 
tone,  said: 

"  Maid  of  the  West  is  owned  by  Mr.  Belden, 
where  Richard  Williams  is  working  this 


summer." 


His  words  were  overheard  by  Jackson  who, 


UP  THE  GRADE  83 

bursting  out  in  a  loud  laugh,  said: 

"That  Williams  fellow  would  like  to  get 
my  old  job,  but  Belden'll  never  let  him  drive 
Maid — he  hain't  got  judgment  enough." 

Owen  said  quietly,  "I  don't  think  he  is 
looking  for  that  kind  of  a  job." 

Annie  cast  him  a  glance  which  would  have 
patted  him  on  the  back,  if  that  act  were 
possible  by  a  look.  The  shot  went  home 
with  the  old  people,  who  showed  that  they 
were  shocked  at  the  degeneracy  of  Richard 
Williams. 

After  the  boys  and  their  interesting  guest 
had  left  the  house  and  Annie  was  alone  with 
her  parents,  she  went  over  and  put  her  arms 
around  her  father's  neck  and  said : 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  if  you  will  why  you 
both  refused  to  speak  to  Richard  Williams 
this  morning?  Will  you  please  tell  me?" 

"Why  do  you  ask,  my  dear?"  said  her 
mother. 

"I  ask  because  I  do  not  think  you  would 
do  so  if  you  did  not  believe  you  had  a  just 


cause." 


Her  mother  took  a  letter  from  the  mantel, 
saying:    "Read  this — it  will  explain." 


84  UP  THE  GRADE 

Annie  opened  the  letter  and  read  as  follows: 

"  BELDEN  FARM,  June  28,  18— 
DEAR  BILL  : 

The  young  man  who  is  working  for  me  has  taken 
to  drinking.  I  had  intended  to  put  him  on  the  circuit 
this  fall  to  drive  and  manage  Maid  of  the  West,  but 
you  know  that  none  but  a  sober,  honest  man  can  be 
trusted  on  the  race  track  with  such  a  valuable  horse. 
Richard  Williams  won't  do. 

I  want  you  to  drive  her  one  more  season. 

I  know  you  have  made  up  your  mind  to  quit  the 
race  track  forever,  but  I  must  have  you,  and  will  pay 
you  one  thousand  dollars.  Don't  say  no. 

Black  Hawk  Spring  is  where  Richard's  father  and 
mother  live.  Do  not  mention  this  where  it  will  reach 
their  ears.  They  do  not  know  he  has  a  bad  habit. 
It  would  break  their  hearts  to  know  that  he  has  begun 
to  drink.  I  have  done  all  I  could  to  make  a  man  of 
him,  but  I  am  afraid  he  is  going  to  the  bad.  I  am 
very  sorry,  for  his  parents  are  old  friends  of  mine. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

S.  H.  BELDEN." 


CHAPTER  XI 

DISTRUST 

WHILE  Annie  was  reading  the  letter,  the 
eyes  of  her  parents  were  watching  her  intently. 
Her  face  at  first  flushed,  but  there  was  no 
other  sign  to  betray  her  feelings.  When  she 
had  finished  reading,  she  folded  the  letter 
and  returned  it  to  the  mantel.  Then,  going 
to  her  room,  she  hastily  donned  a  light  lav 
ender  gown  of  a  delicate  tint,  which  har 
monized  perfectly  with  her  dark  eyes,  black 
silken  tresses  and  opaline  complexion.  When 
she  again  stood  before  her  parents,  having 
gained  a  dignified  and  complete  self-control, 
she  presented  a  picture  of  rare  beauty  and 
loveliness,  which  was  intensified,  yea,  glori 
fied,  by  love's  awakening.  She  had  wisely 
taken  time  to  think  before  speaking.  The 
time  had  not  come  to  declare  to  them  the 
sacred  secret  of  her  love. 

One  of  the  little  schemes  of  Steven  Henry 
Belden  had  "worked."  The  virus  of  distrust 

85 


86  UP  THE  GRADE 

and  prejudice  had  taken  deep  root  in  their 
honest,  simple  souls,  and  that  which  had 
made  Richard  an  outcast  in  their  minds  had 
blinded  their  eyes  to  the  trickery  and  knavery 
of  those  who  were  seeking  his  downfall. 
Any  attempt  on  Annie's  part  to  alter  their 
fixed  opinion  or  a  word  from  her  in  defense 
of  Richard,  would  only  add  fuel  to  the  fire 
which,  now  kindled,  might  at  any  moment 
burst  into  uncontrollable  flames.  She  would 
talk  with  Richard's  mother.  No,  she  would 
not  do  that.  A  triple  contest  between  her 
judgment,  her  desire  and  her  pride  was  in 
stantly  decided  by  the  former.  Richard 
had  never  spoken  one  word  of  love  to  her; 
he  might  never  do  so.  She  would  keep  her 
secret  locked  in  her  heart  and  wait.  Her 
parents  were  still  waiting  for  her  to  speak. 

"Where  did  you  get  that  letter,  mother?" 
she  asked. 

"I  found  it  on  the  porch  this  morning/' 
she  replied.  "  If  it  had  been  in  an  envelope, 
your  father  and  mother  would  never  read  it. 
It  was  open  as  you  see  it  now." 

When  they  began  to  read  it  they  knew  not 
what  it  was;  then  they  read  more  and  under- 


UP  THE  GRADE  87 

stood  it  was  written  to  this  young  telegraph 
man  from  his  sincere  friend,  where  Richard 
Williams  works.  They  were  sorry  they  read 
it  and  said  that  Annie  must  see  it,  too. 

"  Now,  you  think  we  did  wrong  this  morning 
at  the  church?" 

"I  did  not  then  see  any  good  cause  for 
your  actions,"  she  said  evasively.  "Do  you 
not  think  you  should  return  that  letter  to 
Mr.  Jackson?"  she  asked. 

"We  talked  about  that.  I  don't  know — 
what  do  you  say?" 

"  I  suppose  it  should  be  given  to  him  if  he 
wants  it.  I  will  give  it  to  him  when  he 
comes  in  if  you  wish  me  to." 

"Well,  do,  please,"  said  her  mother. 

A  few  minutes  later  Jackson  came  in,  and 
said  with  exasperating  familiarity  and  a 
commanding  air : 

"  Put  on  your  hat,  Annie,  and  take  a  walk 
with  me." 

She  stepped  to  the  mantel,  and  taking  the 
letter,  handed  it  to  him,  saying:  "Does  this 
letter  belong  to  you?  Mother  found  it  on 
the  porch  this  morning." 

He  glared  at  it,  crammed  it  into  his  pocket, 


88  UP  THE  GRADE 

and  said  in  the  same  impudent  tone  of  author 
ity:  "Yes,  we'll  talk  about  that  when  we 
are  out  walking.  Come  on." 

She  turned  upon  him  with  flashing  eyes, 
her  patience  exhausted,  her  proud,  Celtic 
blood  boiling  with  righteous  indignation. 
Speaking  slowly,  but  calmly,  she  said : 

"Mr.  Jackson,  you  came  here  last  night 
and  detained  me  by  your  silly  talk  until  after 
twelve  o'clock.  You  had  not  the  sense  or 
good  manners  to  go  until  I  told  you  to.  You 
left  this  house  in  anger,  uttering  dark,  cow 
ardly  threats.  I  hoped  I  was  rid  of  you 
forever,  but  today  you  have  again  forced  your 
unwelcome  presence  upon  me."  Pointing  to 
the  door  and  stamping  her  dainty  foot,  she 
said;  "Go!  You  are  not  wanted  here.  I 
hope  you  understand  me  this  time — go!" 

He  cowered  before  her  like  a  whipped  cur. 
Once  or  twice  he  opened  his  lips  as  if  to  speak, 
but  she  gave  him  no  opportunity  to  do  so. 
He  walked  away  sullenly. 

"They  think  they  have  me  downed,"  he 
muttered.  "I'll  show  them  yet.  If  I  had 
got  a  good  hold  on  him,  I  would  have  left 
my  mark  on  him.  I  made  a  mistake  last 


UP  THE  GRADE  89 

night,  but  I  was  mad  and  didn't  take  time 
enough  to  lay  my  plans.  I  wasn't  sure  it 
was  him,  but  thought  I'd  find  out,  and  if 
'twas,  I'd  mark  him  up  and  give  him  such  a 
scare  that  he  would  not  dare  show  his  head 
in  this  part  of  the  country  again.  I  counted 
too  much  on  that  letter;  that  did  fix  the  old 
folks,  but  hurt  my  case  with  her.  They  are 
not  done  with  me  yet." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  letter  which 
had  caused  so  much  trouble  in  the  Reese 
home  had  been  written  by  Mr.  Belden  for  the 
very  purpose  for  which  it  was  used.  He 
knew  that  Jackson  would  jump  at  the  chance 
to  create  a  favorable  impression  of  himself 
and  to  blacken  Richard's  character.  Un 
fortunately  for  Richard,  there  was  some  truth 
in  it.  That  Mr.  Belden  had  no  serious  thought 
of  again  taking  Jackson  into  his  employ  will 
be  seen  when  his  plans  are  revealed. 


CHAPTER  XII 
DOCTOR  HASKELL 

ON  the  morning  after  Mr.  Belden's  return 
with  the  demijohn,  Richard  started  for  town 
accompanied  by  Judge  Densmore.  The  air 
was  fresh  with  the  dew  of  the  morning  and 
fragrant  with  the  breath  of  ripening  grain. 

It  was  Saturday  and  on  that  evening  there 
was  to  be  a  great  party  at  the  home  of  one  of 
Mr.  Belden's  neighbors — an  ante-harvest  fes 
tival.  The  Belden  family,  including  Richard, 
were  invited.  As  was  usual  on  such  occasions 
a  goodly  number  of  both  young  and  old 
were  expected  out  from  "The  Lake,"  and 
among  them  the  Reverend  J.  Russell  Haskell, 
the  pastor  of  the  largest  and  wealthiest  church 
in  that  thriving  town.  He  had  been  called 
from  an  eastern  city  and  had  accepted  the 
call  and  the  tempting  salary,  for  the  reason — 
as  he  often  explained — that  the  field  offered 
him  an  opportunity  to  study  a  type  of  human 
nature  with  which  he  had  long  had  a  desire 

90 


UP  THE  GRADE  91 

to  become  more  intimately  acquainted,  and 
he  had  found  an  inspiration  in  the  sturdy 
pulse  of  the  cosmopolitan  west,  which  he 
had  not  experienced  in  the  older  communities 
of  the  east. 

Coming  from  a  wealthy  family,  he  had 
been  given  unusual  educational  advantages. 
After  graduating  from  one  of  the  oldest  insti 
tutions  of  learning,  he  had  spent  several  years 
in  the  Old  World. 

He  was  a  student  by  nature — a  bookworm. 
Had  he  chosen  a  secular  profession  or  occupa 
tion,  he  would  have  been  a  failure.  His  mind 
had  been  trained  in  the  theoretical  and  specu 
lative  at  the  expense  of  the  practical.  The 
incomprehensible  things  of  the  Infinite,  which 
he  could  not  understand,  he  doubted.  He 
was  not  "spiritually  minded/'  His  religion 
was  more  intellectual  than  experimental.  He 
could  not  accept  the  truth  with  simple  faith, 
and  was  therefore  a  poor  exponent  of  the 
gospel  as  taught  by  the  meek  and  lowly 
Nazarene — the  gospel  that  brings  peace,  rest 
and  comfort  to  the  receptive  soul. 

He  was  a  very  eloquent  speaker,  but  his 
preaching  to  those  who  go  to  church  to  be 


92  UP  THE   GRADE 

taught  the  way  of  life,  the  plan  of  salvation, 
rather  than  to  be  entertained,  was  disap 
pointing — to  the  young,  dangerous  and  mys 
tifying.  He  was  an  excellent  forerunner  of 
those  who  in  the  present  day  hold  to  the  so- 
called  "higher  criticism."  No  church  creed 
was  broad  enough  for  him.  He  seemed 
proud  to  say — and  there  were  those  who 
counted  it  to  his  credit — that  he  had  been 
ordained  to  preach  by  three  different  churches. 
He  did  not  say  that  one  of  them  had  asked 
him  to  surrender  his  parchments. 

There  are  men  who  live  so  near  the  heart 
of  the  Master  that  they  are  greater  than  any 
church  creed,  but  they  are  not  of  his  school. 
They  may  be  found  in  any  church,  or  in  none. 
Such  a  man  was  Abraham  Yale. 

Dr.  Russell  Haskell  and  Steven  Henry 
Belden  were  great  friends.  The  learned  doctor 
enjoyed  and  entered  slyly  into  the  amusements 
in  which  Mr.  Belden  indulged,  not  excepting 
a  ride  behind  a  high-stepper;  or,  on  suitable 
and  safe  occasions,  a  taste  of  some  of  the  rather 
strong  beverages  such  as  Mr.  Belden  knew 
how  to  concoct,  and  which,  of  course,  were 
"entirely  harmless." 


UP  THE  GRADE  93 

"I  suppose/7  said  Judge  Densmore,  "you 
expect  to  take  in  the  party  tonight?" 

Richard  hesitated  lest  the  real  reason  for 
his  not  appearing  in  company  might  be  sur 
mised  by  the  Judge ;  and  not  caring  to  name 
it  as  frankly  as  he  had  to  his  mother,  when 
she  advised  him  to  walk  home  from  church 
with  Annie,  he  attempted  to  change  the 
subject. 

"There  will  be  some  pretty  girls  there," 
said  the  Judge ;  "  that  bright  little  Miss  Jones 
for  instance.  I  notice  she  usually  gallops  up 
to  Belden's  when  she  is  out  horseback  riding, 
and  always  has  something  to  say  about  Mr. 
Williams." 

"I  presume  there  will  be  a  good  many 
young  people  there,"  said  Richard  soberly. 

The  Judge  read  in  the  troubled  tone  in 
which  he  spoke  the  real  hindrance  to  his 
going,  and  knowing  the  motive  of  his  self- 
denial,  he  admired  him  for  it,  and  felt  an 
honest  desire  to  "give  him  a  lift,"  as  he 
expressed  it  to  Maggie. 

He  thought  he  had  discovered  a  way  in 
which  he  could  do  so,  and  decided  to  propose 
it. 


94  UP  THE  GRADE 

"Maggie  showed  me  the  model  of  a  machine 
which  she  said  was  an  invention  of  your 
own — a  tire  up-setting  device." 

"Yes,"  said  Richard,  his  face  brightening 
with  enthusiasm,  "  I  have  often  noticed  what 
a  hard  job  a  blacksmith  makes  of  shortening 
and  welding  wagon  tires.  That  will  crush 
them  together  without  cutting  or  welding." 

"It  is  a  valuable  invention — you  should 
procure  a  patent  on  it." 

"  That  would  cost  nearly  a  hundred  dollars," 
said  Richard.  "  I  have  never  had  that  much 
to  spare." 

•"I'll  tell  you  what  I  will  do.  If  you  will 
allow  me  to  use  your  name  at  the  patent 
office  and  agree  to  assign  the  patent  to  me, 
I  will  give  you  five  hundred  dollars  for  it." 

"  Do  you  really  think  it  is  worth  as  much  as 
that?"  asked  Richard  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  and  I  think  I  shall  make  money  on 
it,  too,"  he  replied.  "I  shall  make  one  con 
dition  which  you  must  agree  to,  and  I  will 
pay  one  hundred  dollars  today  and  the  balance 
when  your  time  is  out  with  Mr.  Belden." 

"What  is  that  condition?"  Richard  asked. 

"  It  is  that  you  will  use  a  part  of  it  for  your 


UP  THE  GRADE  95 

own  personal  benefit.  Go  today  and  buy  a 
good  business  suit,  and  rig  yourself  out  from 
head  to  foot  like  a  business  man." 

"With  the  understanding  that  the  inven 
tion  is  worth  that  amount  to  you,  I  accept 
the  offer  and  the  condition." 

Judge  Densmore  became  the  owner  of  the 
patent,  and  found  it  a  profitable  investment. 

That  evening,  when  Richard  appeared  at 
the  party  in  a  very  neat  and  becoming  suit 
of  blue  black,  there  was  no  one  there  who 
made  a  better  appearance  than  he,  or  who 
carried  himself  with  greater  ease. 

Miss  Nettie  Jones,  a  charming,  selfish  little 
blonde,  whose  father  owned  a  hardware  store 
at  the  Lake,  was  a  general  favorite  with  the 
young  men,  but  she  showed  a  decided  pref 
erence  for  the  company  of  the  young  farmer. 
As  Judge  Densmore  had  hinted,  she  had  taken 
a  great  liking  to  Richard.  She  had  not  for 
gotten  that  day  in  the  early  summer  when 
her  saddle  turned  and  he  came  to  her  assist 
ance.  Neither  of  them  had  since  mentioned 
the  incident,  but  it  had  apparently  made  a 
deeper  impression  upon  her  mind  than  on 
his.  She  had  never  seen  him  before  this 


96  UP  THE   GRADE 

evening,  except  in  his  working  clothes.  To 
night  he  more  than  met  her  ideal  of  the 
strong,  brave,  handsome  man.  She  was,  to 
use  the  expression  of  one  of  the  young  men 
from  the  Lake,  "clean  gone  on  him." 

Richard's  heart  and  thoughts  were  far 
away  across  the  rolling  prairie  over  the  long 
hill  through  the  damp  woodlands.  He  could 
hear  the  voices  of  the  night  calling  him.  He 
would  go  home  again  in  a  few  days.  He 
would  go  by  train  this  time.  He  would  give 
them  a  great  surprise.  He  would  not  write 
about  his  good  fortune — no,  he  would  not  even 
tell  them  he  was  coming.  He  would  take  the 
six  o'clock  train  at  the  way  station  near  the 
farm  and  get  home  at  nine-thirty,  and  walk 
in  on  them,  with  something  for  each  one. 
Eddie  should  have  that  new  pair  of  red  top 
boots;  each  of  the  family  should  have  a  suit 
able  present.  He  would  see  Annie  and  tell 
her  everything  and  ease  his  mind.  What 
would  she  say?  Well,  he  would  leave  that  to 
her.  He  would  be  honest  with  her,  anyway. 
While  his  thoughts  were  running  on  so  joy 
ously,  Mr.  Belden  came  to  him  and  in  his 
pleasantest  manner,  said : 


UP  THE  GRADE  97 

"  I  want  you  to  meet  Doctor  Haskell.  He 
is  a  man  it  will  do  you  good  to  know."  As 
he  spoke,  he  threw  his  arm  around  Richard 
in  his  familiar  way,  and  they  walked  toward 
a  group  of  young  people  who  were  gathered 
around  the  doctor,  chatting  and  laughing 
gleefully. 

"  Doctor  Haskell,  I  want  to  introduce  Mr. 
Williams."  Then,  while  they  were  shaking 
hands,  he  added,  "He  came  to  live  with  us 
just  before  you  went  away  on  your  eastern 
trip." 

The  Doctor  greeted  him  cordially,  and  after 
a  few  minutes7  pleasant  conversation,  he 
turned  to  Mr.  Belden  and  said:  " Bring  this 
young  man  to  church  tomorrow  morning." 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  I  am  appointed 
assistant  pastor  to  help  gather  the  sheep  into 
the  fold?"  said  Mr.  Belden. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  doctor,  "an  under  shep 
herd — do  you  accept  the  appointment?" 

Mr.  Belden  whispered  something  into  his 
ear  about  a  black  sheep.  Whether  the  joke 
was  intended  to  be  on  himself  or  the  doctor, 
it  called  forth  a  hearty  laugh  from  each. 
Addressing  the  young  people  who  gathered 


98  UP  THE  GRADE 

around,  Mr.  Belden  said:  "That  was  a  joke 
on  the  preacher." 

"No,  indeed,"  said  the  Doctor,  "it  could 
be  applied  only  to  Mr.  Belden.  What  do  you 
say,  Belden,  shall  we  look  for  you  at  church 
tomorrow?" 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Williams  would  prefer  to 
go  alone,"  he  answered.  "He  may  want  to 
make  a  call  after  church." 

"That's  one  on  Nettie!"  cried  one  of  the 
girls,  who  had  noticed  the  blush  that  Miss 
Jones  could  not  hide. 

"I  guess  Mr.  Belden  fired  that  shot  at  me 
alone,"  said  Richard.  "It  means  I  am  to 
have  a  horse  and  buggy  to  go  to  church." 

"Yes,  that's  what  it  means,"  said  Mr. 
Belden. 

"  And  I  shall  be  glad  to  go  as  Mr.  Belden's 
proxy,"  replied  Richard  quickly. 

Richard  was  captivated  by  the  scholarly 
bearing  and  polished  manners  of  Doctor 
Haskell.  His  great  learning  and  travel  gave 
Richard  an  exalted  opinion  of  him,  and  he 
went  to  church  expecting  to  hear  words  of 
wisdom  fall  from  his  lips. 

The  church  was  crowded  with  the  most 


UP  THE  GRADE  99 

wealthy  and  fashionable  of  the  place.  The 
members  of  the  choir  filed  in  and  took  their 
places.  The  leader  seated  himself  before  a 
pipe  organ  of  a  somewhat  antiquated  pattern, 
which  once  responded  to  the  touch  of  a  master 
hand  in  an  eastern  church,  but  which — 
having  been  supplanted  by  a  larger  and 
grander  one — had  been  brought  to  this  church, 
the  first  of  its  kind,  and  the  grandest  organ 
which  had  yet  found  its  way  to  the  town  of 
White  Wolf  Lake. 

As  the  minister  entered  the  chancel,  the 
choir  arose  and  sang  the  old  familiar  Doxology. 
The  minister  offered  a  short  prayer  while  the 
congregation  remained  standing.  After  the 
offertory  Miss  Nettie  Jones  sang  a  soprano 
solo  in  a  sweet  voice.  The  entire  opening 
service  was  impressive.  Doctor  Haskell  arose 
and  stood  with  his  left  hand  upon  the  open 
Bible  in  an  attitude  of  waiting.  In  a  moment 
his  audience  became  silent  and  attentive. 
Every  eye  was  upon  the  speaker,  every  ear 
strained  to  catch  the  first  words  that  should 
come  from  this  man,  whose  perfect  equipoise, 
magnetic  bearing  and  striking  personality 
held  them  in  a  state  of  entranced  expectancy. 


100  UP  THE  GRADE 

He  began  speaking  in  a  low  deep  tone : 
"Our  thought  will  be  directed  for  a  few 
moments  to  the  first  verse  of  the  first  chapter 
of  Genesis:  'In  the  beginning  God  created 
the  heaven  and  the  earth/  The  first  words 
of  the  Bible  at  once  raise  a  query  in  the  mind 
of  the  thinking  man — when  was  the  beginning? 
Who  was  this  God — this  creator  of  all  things? 
Why  did  he  give  man,  created  in  His  own 
image,  a  mind?  Why  did  he  create  in  him 
the  desire  to  know  and  understand  the  won 
ders  of  His  awful  and  kingly  rule?  And  why 
did  he  leave  that  desire  ungratified? 

"The  student  ordained  by  the  church  who 
does  not  proclaim  to  the  world  the  results  of 
his  investigation  would  be  false  to  himself, 
to  his  church  and  to  his  God.  It  brings  no 
thrill  of  pleasure  to  him  who  stands  behind 
the  sacred  desk  to  proclaim  the  truth,  when 
that  truth  destroys  the  beautiful  pictures 
which  are  set  forth  in  the  uninspired  inter 
polations  of  the  Old  or  New  Testament,  and 
have  been  accepted  from  childhood  as  the 
sacred  truth  of  the  inspired  Word  of  God. 
No  man  knows  how  much  of  the  Bible  was 
written  under  Divine  inspiration.  Many,  if 


UP  THE  GRADE  101 

not  all,  of  the  miracles  which  are  so  familiar 
to  us  are  mere  fables  with  no  more  substance 
than  fairy  tales.  No  great  student  longer 
believes  the  whale  story,  or  that  poem,  the 
Book  of  Job.  The  representation  of  that 
insidious  foe  to  all  goodness,  a  personal  devil 
with  cloven  feet  and  horns,  stalking  abroad, 
seeking  whom  he  may  devour,  is  no  longer 
believed  save  by  the  weak-minded  and  super 
stitious. 

"We  are  upon  the  threshold  of  a  new  era 
in  thought  and  speech.  In  the  closing  years 
of  the  nineteenth  century  and  the  opening  of 
the  twentieth,  men  of  letters  will  speak  as 
they  long  have  thought,  but  have  never  dared 
speak  before.  The  religious  sophistries  of  a 
darker  and  less  enlightened  age  will  be  ex 
ploded,  and  in  the  light  of  reason  and  research 
humanity  will  wake  from  its  long  night  of 
ignorance  and  superstition. " 

With  this  prelude  he  proceeded  10  deliver 
an  address  which  ranged  from  the  most 
scholarly  heights  of  the  learned  materialist 
to  the  depths  of  sacrilegious  sarcasm. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
DANGER 

IF  Mr.  Belden  could  have  read  Richard's 
thoughts  at  the  close  of  the  service,  he  would 
have  been  highly  gratified  to  see  that  another 
of  his  schemes  had  worked.  He  knew  by 
experience  and  observation  that  no  greater 
blow  can  be  struck  at  the  very  foundation  of 
a  young  man's  character  than  that  which 
shatters  or  unsettles  his  religious  faith.  If 
Mr.  Belden  had  ever  read  the  first  six  verses 
of  Matthew  xviii,  he  had  certainly  forgotten 
the  awful  arraignment  of  him  who  offends 
one  of  God's  children.  Those  words  spoken 
by  the  great  Teacher,  so  unmistakably  and 
clearly  illustrated,  contain  a  lesson  at  which 
the  cunning  Mr.  Belden  might  well  tremble, 
and  at  once  puts  to  naught  the  soulless  logic 
of  the  learned  Doctor  Haskell.  Our  friend 
Richard,  who  was  almost  a  worshipper  of 
that  higher  education  which  had  been  denied 
him,  and  which  had  been  the  dream  of  his 
102 


UP  THE  GRADE  103 

life,  was  carried  far  out  to  sea  in  the  hour  in 
which  he  sat  under  the  spell  of  Doctor  Has- 
kelPs  oratory. 

It  was  the  custom  in  his  day  for  children  to 
memorize  those  verses  of  Scripture  which 
were  selected  for  the  Sunday-School  lesson; 
and  bright  scholars,  such  as  he,  often  repeated 
whole  chapters  as  the  result  of  a  single  week's 
study;  but  this  was  done  too  often  in  a  per 
functory  manner.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  in 
that  day  the  exegetical  aid  provided  for  the 
advanced  scholars  was  not  equal  to  that  found 
in  the  primary  department  of  the  present  day. 

As  Doctor  Haskell  prophesied,  there  are 
in  this  age  a  greater  number  of  ministers  of 
his  type,  whose  religion  is  of  the  head  rather 
than  of  the  heart  and  soul;  but  the  young 
who  are  wise  enough  to  enter  heartily  into 
the  work  of  the  Sunday  School  and  young 
people's  societies,  and  who  realize  that  by 
doing  so  they  are  laying  the  only  safe  and 
sure  foundation  for  a  successful  and  useful 
life,  are  better  fortified  against  the  possibly 
honest  but  practically  heretical  teachings  of 
the  modern,  so-called  "higher  criticism." 

Richard  had  at  his  tongue's  end  many  pas- 


104  UP  THE  GRADE 

sages  of  God's  word,  before  which  the  "  author 
ship  of  the  Book  of  Genesis,"  "possible  inter 
polations,"  "marginal  notes  accidentally 
creeping  into  the  original  text,"  "possible 
errors  in  translation,"  "chronology" — or  any 
of  the  objections  raised  by  the  "great  minds," 
the  "higher  critics " —sink  into  nothingness. 
For,  as  a  great  writer  has  said,  "you  may,  by 
establishing  a  single  truth,  put  to  flight  at 
one  blow  a  hundred  heresies."  But  these 
weapons  were  powerless  in  his  hands.  These 
words  of  truth  were  for  the  moment  forgotten 
by  him  and  overshadowed  by  the  glamor  of  a 
silvery-tongued  orator. 

During  the  few  hours  which  he  spent  at 
the  home  of  Miss  Nettie  Jones,  to  which  he 
was  invited  at  the  close  of  the  service  and 
where  he  was  kindly  welcomed  by  her  parents, 
he  could  not,  even  amid  the  pleasant  surround 
ings  and  the  animated  conversation  of  that 
interesting  and  hospitable  family,  dispel  the 
doubts  and  misgivings  which  the  words  of  the 
preacher  had  aroused.  The  members  of  the 
Jones  family  who  had  attended  the  morning 
service  were  loud  in  their  praise  of  the  sermon. 
This  he  took  as  an  endorsement  of  the  theories 


UP  THE  GRADE  105 

of  their  pastor,  but  he  did  not  mention  to 
them  the  impression  it  had  made  upon  his 
mind.  If  it  satisfied  them,  why  should  he 
not  accept  it  as  well?  They  were  intelligent 
and  refined.  Perhaps  they  were  living  on  a 
higher  and  broader  religious  plane  than  he 
had  ever  known.  His  mother  was  educated, 
and  she  accepted  all  of  the  Bible  as  inspired. 
Possibly  she  had  inherited  some  of  the  Puri 
tanic  notions  of  her  ancestors;  and  yet  he 
could  see  a  sweet  peacefulness  in  her  life  that 
did  not  appear  in  a  single  sentence  of  the 
morning  discourse. 

As  he  was  driving  home  that  afternoon,  he 
passed  the  place  where  the  fox  crossed  the 
road  when  Abraham  Yale  was  riding  with 
him.  His  good  sense  prompted  him  to  drive 
around  by  Mr.  Yale's  home  and  have  a  few 
minutes'  talk  with  him  on  the  subject  that 
was  at  that  moment  uppermost  in  his  mind. 
But  he  decided  that  he  would  not  do  so  at 
present — he  would  reason  these  things  out 
for  himself.  He  was  in  danger  and  was  taking 
an  unwise  course.  The  adversary  had  found 
a  vulnerable  point  in  his  naturally  strong 
character  and  was  making  the  most  of  it. 


106  UP  THE  GRADE 

The  Evil  One  has  no  use  for  putty  men. 
The  pliable,  vacillating  character,  who  never 
thinks  deeply  on  any  subject,  meets  with 
fewer  temptations  than  such  as  Richard. 

Mr.  Belden  said  that  his  hired  man  never 
did  anything  "by  halves,"  and  he  spoke  the 
truth,  for  whatever  this  young  man  purposed 
doing,  he  did  with  all  his  might.  When  he 
decided  to  reason  out  for  himself  those  prob 
lems  which  are  beyond  the  comprehension  of 
the  human  mind,  he  undertook  to  do  it. 

Had  he  forgotten  his  mother's  words?  "  He 
will  rely  too  much  on  his  own  strength.7' 
He  had  pitted  his  strength  against  the  infinite 
mind  of  the  Creator  of  the  universe ;  and  as  an 
inevitable  sequence,  his  frail  bark  was  from 
day  to  day  drifting  further  and  further  out 
upon  a  cheerless  sea  toward  the  rocks  and 
reefs  of  infidelity,  upon  which  so  many  souls 
have  been  wrecked  and  lost. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
QUEENLY  DIGNITY 

WHEN  we  last  saw  Annie  Reese  she  was 
standing  in  the  doorway  of  her  father's  house, 
with  blazing  eyes  and  flushed  cheeks,  in  a  tone 
of  queenly  dignity  exercising  the  right  in 
herent  in  pure  and  noble  womanhood  to  pro 
tect  herself  against  the  forced  advances  of  a 
coarse  and  sensual  wretch.  When  she  closed 
the  door  behind  "Bill"  Jackson  and  returned 
to  the  room  where  her  father  and  mother  were 
sitting,  she  found  them  both  in  a  state  of 
consternation. 

They  had  never  before  seen  her  reveal  the 
latent  forces  of  her  nature.  To  them,  such 
treatment  of  a  guest  who  had  been  invited 
to  their  home  was  the  grossest  insult,  and  her 
conduct  unladylike  and  inexcusable.  This 
man  would  ever  after  be  an  enemy  of  the 
family,  and  the  possible  consequences  filled 
them  with  a  nameless  fear.  Thqy  were  ap 
palled  at  her  temerity. 
107 


108  UP  THE  GRADE 

Her  mother  was  first  to  speak.  Rising  and 
coming  toward  her,  she  said:  " Daughter, 
what  do  you  mean,  to  speak  so  badly?  You 
make  me  ashamed." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hurt  your  feelings,  mother, 
but  I  mean  just  what  I  said  to  that  man.  I 
do  not  want  to  see  him  again.  He  is  not  a 
good  man." 

"Do  you  know  anything  bad  about  him? 
You  should  tell  us,"  said  her  father. 

"He  shows  by  his  face  and  in  his  words 
that  his  thoughts  are  low  and  ungentlemanly. 
When  you  know  him  better,  you  will  say  I 
have  done  right." 

She  spoke  pleasantly  and  respectfully. 
There  was  nothing  in  her  manner  to  show  the 
feelings  that  were  pent  up  within  her.  She 
understood  clearly  that  their  kindly  treat 
ment  of  him  had  been  prompted  more  from 
their  natural  politeness  than  from  a  desire  to 
encourage  him  in  his  attentions  to  her,  if 
indeed  they  had  given  that  any  serious 
thought.  In  the  sunshine  of  her  gentle, 
girlish  life,  her  years  had  slipped  by  unheeded 
by  them ;  and  still  looking  upon  her  as  in  the 
days  of  her  childhood,  they  were  not  prepared 


UP  THE   GRADE  109 

for  such  an  outburst  of  womanly  spirit. 
They  were  stern  and  uncompromising  in  their 
natures;  and  when  once  fixed  in  their  opin 
ions,  quite  immovable — the  representatives 
of  a  sturdy  race,  whose  progenitors  had  defied 
the  kings  of  ancient  England,  harassed  their 
armies,  stormed  their  castles,  and  in  hand- 
to-hand  combat  laid  down  their  lives  in 
defence  of  their  conscientious  principles  of 
right  and  justice. 

Knowing  that  a  lengthy  discussion  would, 
in  their  present  state  of  mind,  only  intensify 
their  feelings  on  the  subject,  she  bade  them 
good-night  and  returned  to  her  room,  where, 
woman-like,  she  gave  way  to  her  feelings  and 
made  no  effort  to  check  the  rising  flood  of 
tears. 

After  she  left  her  parents,  they  conversed 
for  a  long  time  in  their  native  tongue,  and 
Richard  Williams  came  in  for  his  full  share 
in  the  conversation. 

When  he  passed  the  house,  he  again  noticed 
a  light  shining  forth  from  that* same  upper 
window.  Possibly  his  expected  passing  at 
those  late  hours  might  have  had  something 
to  do  with  it — who  can  tell? 


CHAPTER  XV 
PERSECUTION 

WHEN  Jackson  saw  there  was  no  hope  for 
him  at  the  Reese  farm,  he  began  a  course  of 
most  exasperating  persecution  by  taking  ad 
vantage  of  every  possible  opportunity  that 
offered  to  throw  himself  in  Annie's  way,  evi 
dently  hoping  thus  to  attract  her  attention; 
but  he  was  not  rewarded  by  so  much  as  a 
look  of  recognition.  Upon  several  occasions 
he  approached  her  so  near  and  stared  at  her 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  extremely 
embarrassing  to  her.  Failing  in  his  efforts  to 
gain  even  a  passing  glance  from  her,  he  would 
every  day  saunter  past  the  Reese  home, 
usually  going  a  short  distance  up  the  road  and 
returning,  gazing  impudently  toward  the 
house.  This  was  kept  up  until  it  became  the 
talk  of  the  neighborhood,  and  he  was  spoken 
of  as  the  "love-sick  operator."  The  chief 
motive,  however,  which  accounted  for  his 
strange  conduct,  was  a  wicked  desire  to  annoy 
110 


UP  THE  GRADE  111 

her,  as  he  told  one  of  his  chums — "  for  the  way 
she  turned  him  down/7  He  became  so  em 
boldened  by  meeting  with  no  interference  in 
his  persistent  method  of  attack,  that  he  began 
to  repeat  the  performance  at  more  frequent 
intervals  until  he  could  be  seen  haunting  the 
premises  at  almost  any  hour  of  the  morning 
or  evening,  when  he  was  "off  duty."  Mr. 
Reese  was  advised  to  take  legal  steps  in  the 
matter  and  did  consult  an  attorney;  but  was 
told  by  him  that,  as  the  young  man  had  com 
mitted  no  criminal  offence  and  had  a  right  to 
the  use  of  the  public  highway,  it  would  be 
difficult  to  make  an  action  stand  against  him. 
If  he  should  commit  any  unlawful  act,  he 
would  be  glad  to  take  the  matter  up.  The 
erstwhile  driver  of  Maid  of  the  West  was  too 
cunning  to  do  that. 

The  Reese  boys  talked  loudly  (to  them 
selves)  of  taking  the  matter  in  their  own 
hands  and  visiting  upon  him  the  punishment 
which  he  so  richly  deserved;  but  Jackson's 
great  bulk  and  more  mature  years  gave  them 
good  cause  for  postponing  the  undertaking. 

Jackson  made  no  secret  of  his  grievance, 
and  often  related  in  detail  the  manner  in 


112  UP  THE  GRADE 

which  Annie  had  dismissed  him.  He  openly 
declared  that  "that  Williams  feller"  was  at 
the  bottom  of  it,  and  repeatedly  vowed  that 
he  would  "fix  him  next  time  he  showed  up 
at  Black  Hawk  Spring."  It  is  quite  likely 
that  he  would  have  provoked  him  to  a  quarrel, 
and  received  his  just  deserts,  had  not  a  cir 
cumstance  intervened  which  for  a  time  post 
poned  the  hour  of  their  meeting. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  BINDERS 

IT  was  the  beginning  of  harvest.  All  was 
hurry  and  bustle  on  the  Belden  farm. 

The  extra  team  had  been  brought  up  from 
the  pasture  to  be  "grained  up"  for  hard 
service. 

The  reaper  had  been  brought  out,  and  a 
new  sickle  attached,  with  its  shining  teeth 
hungry  for  the  conquest  which  awaited  them 
on  the  smooth,  level  acres  of  wheat  and 
oats  which  were  leaving  the  emerald  and 
taking  on  the  amber  tints  of  approaching 
ripeness. 

The  driver's  seat  was  supplied  with  the 
unusual  accompaniment  of  a  cushion  and  a 
large  umbrella  to  furnish  shade  for  the  driver, 
for  Mr.  Belden  himself  was  to  hold  the  reins 
and  wield  the  whalebone. 

Notwithstanding  the  strenuous  duties  of 
a  "binder"  in  the  harvest  field,  the  work  was 
always  entered  upon  with  a  buoyancy  of 

113 


114  UP  THE  GRADE 

spirit  such  as  prevailed  among  the  sturdy 
woodsmen,  whose  axes  have  laid  bare  the 
virgin  forests  that  once  framed  this  continent 
in  a  setting  of  rich  evergreen. 

Like  the  axeman,  the  swamper,  the  teamster 
and  the  raftsman,  the  "binder"  had  an  in 
herent  pride  in  his  own  dexterity  and  endur 
ance.  To  bind  a  wounded  hand  was  a 
weakness.  To  excel  or  equal  the  best  was 
an  honor  which  elicited  admiration  or  engen 
dered  envy  and  strife,  not  infrequently  re 
sulting  in  bloodshed. 

Judge  Densmore,  who  had  prolonged  his 
visit,  seeing  Mr.  Belden  take  a  hand  in  the 
harvest — "for  the  sake  of  the  exercise" 
— volunteered  to  act  as  errand  boy. 

When  Mr.  Belden's  picked  men  arrived  at 
the  farm,  they  were  indeed  a  "husky-looking 
bunch,"  as  he  remarked  to  Judge  Densmore. 
The  most  striking  figure  among  them  was 
John  Nolan,  a  big,  burly  Irishman,  a  man  of 
sandy  complexion,  coarse  features  and  a 
domineering  disposition.  He  was  a  great 
braggart,  and  a  foul-mouthed,  repulsive  crea 
ture,  with  none  of  the  good-natured,  kind- 
hearted  wit  that  is  so  often  found  in  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  115 

brawny  sons  of  Erin.  Peter  Moline,  a  tall, 
black-eyed,  wiry  Frenchman,  Carl  Johnson, 
a  good-natured  Dane,  and  our  Richard  made 
up  the  rest  of  the  "binders"  squad. 

After  Mr.  Belden  had  looked  them  over 
with  a  critical  eye,  he  called  Nolan  aside,  and 
confidentially  offered  him  fifty  cents  a  day 
extra,  and  appointed  him  leader  (a  position 
which  rightfully  belonged  to  Richard),  and 
with  a  knowing  wink,  instructed  him  to  "give 
it  to  'em." 

The  day  before  the  binding  began,  Mr. 
Belden  sent  Richard  to  start  the  reaper,  to 
see  that  it  was  in  perfect  working  order. 

There  was  no  work  that  he  enjoyed  more 
than  that  which  was  connected  with  ma 
chinery.  He  was  a  natural  mathematician 
with  a  mechanical  eye;  and  when  his  work 
called  for  mathematical  precision,  he  was  in 
his  element.  Mr.  Belden  had  soon  noticed 
this  when  he  came  on  the  farm;  and  had  left 
the  setting  up  of  new,  and  in  fact  the  care  of 
all  the  machinery  entirely  to  him.  Mr. 
Belden  had  found  the  words  of  Richard's 
father  true,  when  he  said  that  his  son  could 
turn  his  hand  to  almost  anything  and  turn 


116  UP  THE  GRADE 

off  about  as  much  work  in  a  day  as  two 
ordinary  men. 

When  the  binding  began,  he  took  it  for 
granted  that  being  the  "regular  hand"  on 
the  farm,  he  would  be  expected  to  set  the 
pace  for  the  day  hands,  and  wondered  that 
Mr.  Belden  had  not  asked  him  to  do  so.  He 
started  out  with  a  somewhat  slower  move 
ment  than  it  was  natural  for  him,  in  what 
"binders"  call  their  "all-day  gait,"  intending 
to  quicken  his  motion  as  they  got  under  way 
and  he  had  learned  the  capacity  of  the  others. 
He  soon  found  himself  following  rather  than 
leading  Nolan,  who  unwisely  threwr  down  the 
gauntlet  by  his  haste  to  take  the  lead.  When 
Mr.  Belden  came  around  with  the  reaper,  he 
found  Nolan  some  distance  ahead  working 
nervously  while  the  others  were  moving  along 
easily,  Richard  in  the  lead,  the  other  two 
taking  the  hint  and  following  him  closely. 
When  he  passed  them  again,  he  noticed  that 
the  three  had  gained  on  Nolan  and  Richard 
was  crowding  him.  His  naturally  quick  and 
easy  motion  and  perfect  control  of  himself 
gave  him  a  decided  advantage.  While  Nolan 
was  keeping  ahead,  Richard  was  really  setting 


UP  THE  GRADE  117 

the  pace,  for  he  could  easily  outbind  the  big 
Irishman. 

That  evening  Nolan  was  petulant  and  ill- 
mannered,  addressing  Richard  as  "the  kid" 
and  telling  him  that  he  would  be  "  taking  to 
the  bush  before  the  harvest  was  over."  He 
took  it  good-naturedly,  replying  in  the  same 
strain.  As  the  days  went  by,  Nolan  having 
found  more  than  his  equal,  and  Mr.  Belden 
having  withdrawn  his  offer  of  extra  pay, 
explaining  that  the  men  were  so  expert  as  a 
whole,  they  could  easily  take  care  of  all  the 
grain  he  could  cut  without  being  crowded, 
he  became  very  abusive  and  quarrelsome, 
but  Richard  managed  to  get  along  without 
any  trouble. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  BATTLE 

ONE  rainy  afternoon  the  men  were  in  the 
barn  wrestling  and  sparring  under  the  direc 
tion  of  Judge  Densmore,  who  brought  out  his 
boxing  gloves  to  give  them  a  little  "free 
instruction." 

Both  he  and  Mr.  Belden  enjoyed  the  ex 
hibition  of  strength  and  skill.  It  was  the 
custom  of  that  day,  whenever  a  number  of 
men  got  together,  to  determine  who  was  the 
"best  man"  by  actual  test.  Two,  who  were 
most  evenly  matched  in  size  and  strength, 
would  wrestle,  and  someone  would  be  called 
to  compete  with  the  successful  one  until  each 
one  in  the  company  who  was  supposed  to  be 
a  match  for  the  champion,  had  been  called 
out. 

In  this  case  Nolan  and  Johnson  first  "en 
tered  the  arena."  They  were  both  large 
men,  but  Nolan  proved  the  victor  after  a 
rather  lively  contest.  Then  Moline  somewhat 

118 


UP  THE  GRADE  119 

reluctantly  took  his  turn,  with  the  same  result. 
Nolan  was  elated  and  boastful,  recounting 
his  past  victories,  saying: 

"An7  it's  now  I'd  be  wishin'  to  get  me  claws 
onto  a  man  what  could  rassel.  It's  warumed 
up  I  am,  an'  the  matherial's  run  out." 

Judge  Densmore  suggested  that  possibly 
Mr.  Williams  would  be  willing  to  try  him. 

"What,  the  kid!"  said  Nolan.  "Sorry  a 
bit  would  he  be  after  thryin'  to  entertain  the 
loikes  of  me." 

"  If  it  would  please  you  to  take  a  fall  out 
of  me,  you  may  have  the  opportunity,"  said 
Richard,  who  had  been  closely  observing  his 
tactics. 

"Look  a'  that  now!  Come  on,  thin,  me 
laddy,  an'  it's  short  work  I'll  make  o'  ye." 

Richard  stepped  forward  smilingly,  and 
John  Nolan  had  found  the  man  he  was  look 
ing  for. 

Nolan  tried  the  feints  and  locks  which  he 
had  used  successfully  with  the  others,  but 
when  he  went  after  Richard  with  them,  he 
was  out  of  his  way.  Having  used  all  the  arts 
he  was  acquainted  with  to  no  effect,  he  re 
sorted  to  brute  force.  Richard  led  him  on 


120  UP  THE  GRADE 

until  the  right  time  came,  when  he  gave  him 
an  opening  feint  which  he  reached  for  too 
slowly  and  measured  his  length  on  the  floor. 
Nolan's  anger  was  aroused.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet,  ready  for  war;  but  Judge  Densmore 
proposed  that  the  program  be  changed  to 
sparring;  and  gave  each  one  a  lesson,  or 
rather,  gave  them  all  a  lesson,  demonstrating 
it  on  each,  excepting  Richard,  who  declined 
to  put  on  the  gloves.  He  stood  by,  a  close 
observer,  but  was  very  careful  to  do  or  say 
nothing  that  would  irritate  Nolan,  who  he 
knew  was  determined  to  pick  a  quarrel  with 
him,  while  he  was  equally  determined  to 
avoid  it,  if  possible.  This  Nolan  noticed, 
and  .mistaking  it  for  fear,  became  more  and 
more  overbearing  and  insulting,  until  not  a 
day  passed  when  Richard  was  not  forced, 
for  the  sake  of  peace,  to  endure  the  most 
humiliating  insults,  sometimes  almost  reach 
ing  the  limits  of  his  patience. 

During  the  noon  hour,  at  luncheon,  in  the 
field,  or  wherever  occasion  offered,  the  men, 
who  worked  in  the  " lumber  woods"  winters, 
indulged  in  the  lowest  and  vilest  conversa 
tion  imaginable.  They  told  their  own  ex- 


UP  THE  GRADE  121 

periences  in  saloons  and  brothels;  and  when 
with  them,  Mr.  Belden  joined  unblushingly 
in  recitals  of  chapters  from  his  own  life, 
which,  though  in  a  different  sphere  from 
theirs,  was  of  the  same  nature  and  far  more 
dangerous,  for  he  clothed  it  with  an  air  of 
respectability,  and  spoke  of  such  things  as 
"necessary  evils." 

At  first  Richard  was  shocked  and  turned 
away  from  the  thought  which  their  evil 
suggestions  awakened.  Every  young  man, 
whose  associations  and  thoughts  have  been 
pure  and  elevating,  must  sooner  or  later  meet 
this  imp  of  lust  and  conquer  him  or  be  con 
quered  by  him.  Richard  could  no  more 
breathe  that  poisoned  atmosphere  and  not 
be  affected  by  it,  than  one  could  inhale  the 
deadly  germs  of  a  contagious  disease  without 
infection. 

His  mind  was  in  an  unhealthy  condition, 
as  he  gradually  but  surely  drifted  away  from 
the  religious  faith  of  his  mother  and  ceased 
to  pray;  and  when  he  read  the  Word  of  God 
from  the  standpoint  of  a  critic,  his  mental 
and  moral  tissue  became  weakened,  lost  its 
resistant  power  just  when  it  needed  it  most, 


122  UP  THE  GRADE 

and  furnished  an  excellent  "culture"  for  the 
deadly  germs  which  he  had  been  breathing 
to  feed  upon  and  flourish,  to  the  destruction 
of  that  which  is  higher  and  purer. 

Mr.  Belden  said,  "I  got  him  at  just  the 
right  time."  Too  true!  And  another  of  his 
schemes  has  "worked."  Richard's  mind  is 
poisoned.  Those  horrible  suggestions  have 
roused  the  sleeping  tiger  of  passion  that  was 
lurking  within  him,  awaiting  a  favorable 
opportunity  to  spring  upon  him  and  take 
possession  of  his  thoughts  in  his  waking  hours, 
and  haunt  his  dreams. 

The  harvest,  now  nearly  finished,  was  the 
most  bountiful  in  the  history  of  the  Belden 
farm.  All  hands  were  working  with  a  will 
to  see  the  last  shock  put  up  by  Friday  even 
ing,  and  by  working  late  their  hopes  were 
realized. 

Saturday  was  to  be  a  holiday;  and  Mr. 
Belden  told  Richard  he  could  have  the  day 
if  he  wished,  but  he  kept  about  his  work  while 
the  others  lounged  in  the  shade,  telling  stories, 
drinking  and  smoking.  Richard  kept  aloof 
from  them  as  much  as  possible,  but  in  the 
afternoon  it  became  necessary  for  him  to 


•I 


He  aimed  a  blow  at  Richard. 


UP  THE  GRADE  123 

pass  near  them,  when  Nolan,  seeing  him, 
called  out: 

"  Come  here,  me  foine  kid,  and  have  a  drink 
wid  yer  betters."  Richard  answered  him 
good-naturedly  and  tried  to  pass  on  to  his 
work,  but  Nolan  was  belligerent,  having 
drunk  enough  to  make  him  quarrelsome. 
He  blocked  his  path  with  his  great  loathsome 
body,  and  said : 

"Well,  ye  will  take  one  glass  whether  ye 
will  or  no,"  at  the  same  time  throwing  it  in 
his  face.  Even  then  Richard  kept  his  self- 
control,  and  wiping  the  liquor  from  his  face, 
said: 

"  Nolan,  I  have  taken  your  jokes  and  abuse 
for  the  last  three  weeks  and  have  tried  to 
treat  you  like  a  gentleman.  You  are  an 
older  man  than  I,  but  you  cannot  make  me 
break  my  promise  to  my  mother." 

"Bad  luck  to  the  mother  of  such  a  brat! 
It's  meself  that'll  dot  the  eyes  of  her  precious 
baby,"  and  he  aimed  a  blow  at  him  which 
he  warded  off,  at  the  same  time  backing 
away  from  him  to  avoid  a  quarrel. 

Judge  Densmore,  seeing  that  it  would  be 
impossible  for  Richard  to  get  away  from 


124  UP  THE  GRADE 

Nolan  without  blows  and  believing  that  he 
would  get  the  worst  of  it,  thinking  to  save 
him  from  severe  punishment,  stepped  forward 
and  proposed  that  they  put  on  the  gloves  and 
he  would  see  that  there  was  fair  play.  Nolan 
pulled  on  the  gloves,  saying  while  doing  so : 

"The  spalpeen  has  got  to  be  whipped,  an' 
if  yell  give  fair  judgment,  it's  John  Nolan'll 
draw  vengeance  on  him  the  first  round." 
Richard  had  not  for  a  moment  lost  his  com 
posure,  but  put  on  the  gloves  with  evident 
reluctance,  saying  as  he  did  so:  "I  have  no 
relish  for  this  sort  of  business.  I  would 
rather  be  called  a  coward  than — "  He  had 
no  time  to  finish  the  sentence.  Nolan  was 
after  him. 

Richard  had  not  seen  a  tall  figure  that 
came  up  just  as  Nolan  began  the  assault,  and 
heard  all  that  had  been  said  from  a  position 
he  had  taken  under  the  shade  of  a  near-by 
tree. 

Nolan  had  been  in  several  prize  fights  and 
many  a  saloon  brawl.  Thinking  Richard  was 
afraid  of  him,  he  at  once  assumed  the  aggres 
sive  and  went  after  him  like  a  mad  bull,  but 
Richard  kept  out  of  his  reach,  and  when  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  125 

Judge  called  "time,"  and  gave  them  one 
minute  to  breathe,  neither  of  them  had  re 
ceived  a  blow. 

When  the  word  was  given,  Nolan  renewed 
the  attack,  employing  the  same  tactics.  It 
was  only  by  the  exercise  of  great  caution  and 
coolness  that  Richard  escaped  blows,  any 
one  of  which,  if  fairly  landed,  would  have 
settled  the  matter  at  once. 

Richard  was  evidently  saving  his  strength, 
and  each  time  that  the  Judge  called  "time," 
it  could  be  seen  that  Nolan  was  wearing  him 
self  out.  He  was  being  out-generaled  by  the 
man  he  called  a  "kid,"  and  who  had  never 
even  witnessed  a  prize  fight. 

When  Richard  thought  it  was  safe  to  do 
so,  he  put  Nolan  on  the  defensive,  belaboring 
and  rushing  him  furiously;  and  in  doing  so, 
received  a  blow  that  nearly  knocked  him  off 
his  feet;  but  quickly  recovering  himself,  he 
rushed  in  and  soon  had  the  great  brute  reeling 
and  staggering. 

When  Richard  began  to  crowd  his  antagon 
ist  and  the  battle  seemed  to  be  turning  in  his 
favor,  the  tall  figure  began  to  move  forward 
towards  him  as  though  unconscious  of  all 


126  UP  THE  GRADE 

else,  his  features  denoting  intense  interest. 
Just  as  Richard  was  delivering  the  blow 
which  brought  Nolan  to  the  earth  and  left 
him  unconscious,  he  heard  the  voice  of 
Abraham  Yale  behind  him  almost  shouting, 
"That's  right,  Williams,  knock  the  wind  out 
of  him." 

In  the  language  of  the  prize  ring  the  big 
bully  was  "knocked  out."  While  the  Judge 
counted  Nolan  out,  Richard  turned,  met  the 
eye  of  Abraham  Yale,  and  said :  "  I  am  sorry, 
Mr.  Yale,  that  you  found  me  engaged  in  such 
an  affair  as  this.  For  my  part,  I  am  ashamed 
of  it." 

"I  am  not  ashamed  of  you,"  said  Mr.  Yale. 
"  I  came  up  in  time  to  see  and  hear  the  whole 
affair.  You  punched  him  a  lesson  that  ought 
to  do  him  good.  There  are  rare  occasions 
when  fists  are  better  than  words  or  legs." 

"I  am  glad  you  came,"  said  Richard.  "I 
have  been  thinking  of  you  lately.  There  are 
some  things  I  ought  to  tell  you." 

"Come  today,"  said  Mr.  Yale,  resuming  his 
own  peculiar  style.  Having  "said  his  say," 
he  walked  away  as  quietly  as  he  came. 

Richard  paid  no  attention  to  Nolan,  who 


UP  THE  GRADE  127 

had  regained  consciousness  and  was  saying 
to  those  who  were  gathered  around  him,  "  Be 
the  good  stick,  he's  a  better  man  than  I 
thought  he  was." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  CLOUD  LIFTED 

WHEN  Richard  had  taken  a  bath  and 
changed  his  clothes,  he  took  a  short  cut  across 
the  fields  to  Mr.  Yale's.  He  found  him  sitting 
under  his  favorite  tree  in  front  of  his  beautiful 
home.  He  welcomed  his  visitor  by  a  warm 
handshake  and  no  words. 

Richard  at  once  proceeded  to  unbosom 
himself  to  him. 

"  I  have  been  having  some  new  experiences 
since  I  saw  you  last.  I  have  been  going  to 
hear  Doctor  Haskell  at  the  Lake.  Have  you 
ever  heard  him?" 

Mr.  Yale  nodded. 

"  I  think  he  is  a  great  speaker  and  a  great 
scholar."  Another  nod.  "His  views  of  the 
Bible  are  different  from  any  I  had  ever  heard 
before.  I  am  greatly  impressed  by  what  he 
says."  Another  nod  and  an  inquiring  look. 
"He  has  been  ordained  to  preach  by  several 
churches." 

128 


UP  THE  GRADE  129 

Mr.  Yale  saw  the  mental  condition  Richard 
was  in  and  also  that  he  needed  help;  that 
the  spell  that  Doctor  Haskell  had  cast  over 
him  must  be  broken.  So,  answering  him 
lightly,  he  replied:  "I  once  knew  a  boy  who 
was  vaccinated  six  times  before  it  worked. 
There  was  nothing  wrong  with  the  material 
used,  the  trouble  was  with  the  boy." 

Richard  began  to  see  light.  Possibly  there 
was  something  wrong  with  Dr.  Haskell.  If 
he  were  so  changeable  in  one  matter,  might 
he  not  be  mistaken  in  his  criticisms? 

He  went  on  and  explained  freely  the  ques 
tions  that  had  been  perplexing  him,  all  of 
which  were  the  result  of  an  attempt  to  unravel 
the  mysteries  of  God,  and  to  fathom  the 
depths  of  His  wisdom  with  his  own  human 
brain. 

Mr.  Yale  led  him  on  in  his  sympathetic 
but  peculiar  way,  and  then  he  asked  abruptly : 

"Do  you  love  your  father  and  mother?" 

"Yes,  certainly  I  do,"  he  answered,  but 
at  first  he  could  not  see  how  this  question 
applied  to  the  subject. 

"  Now,  tell  me,  by  what  process  of  reason 
ing  you  have  reached  this  conclusion.  How 


130  UP  THE  GRADE 

do  you  know  that  you  love  them?  What 
is  love?" 

Richard  was  silent  and  thoughtful. 

"Did  you  ever  see  it — hear  it — smell  it — 
taste  it— feel  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  he,  "I  have  felt  it,  and  I  know 
it  is  a  real  something,  but  your  question 
puzzles  me.  You  know  what  it  is,  Mr. 
Yale." 

"  Well,  we  will  suppose  I  do  not  know  and 
never  could  know  until  you  teach  it  me,  as 
you  would  arithmetic  or  grammar,  purely 
by  some  mental  process." 

"I  see,"  said  Richard,  "it  does  not  come 
by  reasoning,  for  the  unlearned  can  know  it — 
the  child,  whose  thinking  faculty  is  unde 
veloped,  can  know  it." 

"Now,  Richard,  suppose  some  man  should 
come  along  who  had  been  educated  until  he 
had  a  rush  of  brains  to  the  head,  and  could 
speak  with  the  tongue  of  a  Demosthenes,  and 
tell  you  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  love, 
would  you  believe  him?" 

"No,"  he  answered,  "I  would  not  believe 
him.  I  could  not  doubt  what  I  know  to  be 
true.  Do  you  think  education  lessens  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  131 

capacity  to  love,  or  necessarily  causes  one 
to  doubt  the  Bible?" 

"No,  education  should  broaden  and 
strengthen  the  character;  but  great  learning 
is  not  essential  to  true  greatness.  The  great 
est  men  who  have  blessed  the  earth  were  not 
only  great  in  learning,  but  so  great  in  heart 
and  soul  that  the  spirit  of  love — which  is 
God — lived  within  them — their  sub-conscious 
mind" 

As  Mr.  Yale  spoke,  there  was  so  much  of 
tenderness  in  his  voice  and  loving  sympathy 
in  his  manner  that  his  words  came  to  Richard 
like  a  heavenly  benediction,  and  yet  there 
was  none  of  the  cant  of  self-righteousness  or 
bigotry  about  him.  He  was  just  a  plain, 
blunt  man,  entirely  human,  as  he  showed 
himself  at  the  Belden  farm  only  that  after 
noon.  When  in  the  presence  of  Doctor 
Haskell,  Richard's  knowledge  of  the  Scrip 
tures  came  not  to  his  aid,  but  now,  in  this 
presence,  words  which  he  had  learned  and 
which  he  felt  were  applicable,  came  to  him 
so  forcibly  that  speaking  almost  uncon 
sciously,  he  said : 

"God  is  Love;    and  he  that  dwelleth  in 


132  UP  THE  GRADE 

Love,  dwelleth  in  God  and  God  in  him.  I  see," 
said  Richard,  "we  must  humble  ourselves 
before  God  before  we  can  feel  and  know  this 
love." 

"And  the  same  book,"  continued  Mr.  Yale, 
"says,  'Be  not  carried  away  with  divers  and 
strange  doctrines/  When  we  question  God's 
plans  and  criticize  His  words,  we  are  troubling 
ourselves  about  that  which  is  none  of  our 
business.  There  are  no  modern  improve 
ments  on  the  plan  of  salvation." 

Richard  felt  such  freedom  with  his  wise 
teacher  and  friend  that  he  told  him  what  he 
could  not  tell  his  mother  regarding  the  trend 
of  his  thoughts  toward  the  lower  and  sensual — 
the  effect  of  the  evil  suggestions  of  Nolan  and 
others  upon  his  mind. 

While  he  was  speaking,  a  wasp  lighted 
upon  Mr.  Yale's  hand.  As  he  brushed  it 
away,  he  said :  "  I  was  not  to  blame  for  that 
wasp  alighting  on  me,  but  I  would  have  been 
had  I  allowed  it  to  remain  there  and  sting 


me." 


"I  wish,"  said  Richard,  "I  knew  how  to 
brush  away  the  evil  thought  so  easily." 
"To  be  carnally  minded  is  death;    to  be 


UP  THE  GRADE  133 

spiritually  minded  is  life  everlasting,"  quoted 
the  good  man.  "The  great  Healer  is  ever 
present  with  you.  Tell  Him  about  it  as  you 
have  me.  He  will  give  you  health  of  both 
mind  and  body.  The  mind  of  Christ  and  the 
mind  of  John  Nolan  cannot  live  in  the  same 
thought  atmosphere;  take  your  choice." 

It  was  seldom  that  the  great  and  good 
Abraham  Yale  used  so  many  words  as  he  did 
on  this  occasion,  and  it  was  seldom  that  he 
had  an  opportunity  to  use  them  with  more 
telling  effect. 

As  Richard  walked  across  the  fields  that 
evening  and  the  harvest  moon  rose  like  a 
great  ball  of  fire  and  shed  its  mellow  light 
over  the  landscape,  he  turned  his  thoughts 
inward  in  silent  prayer.  All  doubts  and  fears 
fled  away.  The  sweet  promises  he  had 
learned  in  the  Sabbath  school  came  to  him 
with  a  new  meaning.  It  seemed  that  they 
were  all  meant  for  him.  The  cloud  had  lifted 
and  the  mind  of  our  young  friend  was  healed. 

When  he  reached  the  farm,  he  found  that 
the  harvest  hands  had  gone.  Mr.  Belden 
called  him  aside  and  offered  him  very  high 
wages  to  drive  Maid  of  the  West  on  the  fall 


134  UP  THE  GRADE 

circuit,  telling  him  he  had  been  intending  to 
have  him  begin  driving  her  as  soon  as  the 
harvest  was  over  to  get  her  ready  for  the 
track;  and  when  he  saw  the  judgment  and 
courage  he  exhibited  in  his  bout  with  Nolan, 
he  knew  he  had  made  no  mistake  in  selecting 
him  for  the  place. 

Richard  promptly  declined  the  offer,  telling 
him  that  no  amount  of  money  would  be  the 
least  temptation  to  him  to  take  up  that  kind 
of  work.  He  told  Mr.  Belden  he  would  like 
to  go  home  the  next  week  by  train,  and  asked 
to  have  a  day  or  two  to  himself.  It  was  so 
arranged,  and  he  went  to  bed  that  night  with 
a  happy  heart,  planning  for  the  great  surprise 
he  would  give  the  family  and  the  talk  he 
would  have  with  Annie.  When  he  thought 
of  her,  his  heart  burned  with  a  pure  and  holy 
love. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
SHADOWED 

THE  entire  Reese  family  became  greatly 
agitated  by  the  conduct  of  Jackson.  It  had 
come  to  the  ears  of  the  good  old  couple  that 
Jackson  held  Richard  responsible  for  Annie's 
treatment  of  him,  and  the  more  they  pondered 
over  the  matter  and  talked  of  it  between  them 
selves,  the  more  they  bemoaned  the  fact  that 
two  such  men  as  Bill  Jackson  and  Richard 
Williams  should  be  in  love  with  their  daughter, 
for  in  their  hearts  they  believed  the  one  to  be 
as  unworthy  of  her  as  the  other.  They 
seldom  mentioned  the  unfortunate  affair  to 
her,  but  when  they  did  they  managed  to  use 
the  name  of  Richard  in  such  a  way  as  to  leave 
no  doubt  in  her  mind  as  to  their  feelings. 
She  said  nothing  in  defense  of  either,  but  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  she  had  misgivings 
lest  there  might  possibly  be  some  grounds  for 
their  fears.  She  did  not  venture  to  leave 
the  premises  unattended.  The  thought  of 

135 


136  UP  THE  GRADE 

Jackson  filled  her  with  horror.  It  had  been 
more  than  two  months  since  Richard  had 
visited  his  home.  This  fact  led  her  to  fear 
that  some  change  had  come  over  him.  She 
longed  to  see  him  again  and  to  know  the 
truth,  but  she  dreaded  his  coming  lest  he 
should  call  at  her  home,  and,  as  she  feared, 
be  ordered  from  the  premises  by  her  father. 

The  severe  nervous  strain  was  plainly 
telling  on  her  health,  and  her  family  and 
friends  had  the  gravest  fears  that  the  conse 
quences  might  prove  serious.  When  her 
mother  gently  broke  the  news  to  her  that 
they  had  decided  to  send  her  to  some  eastern 
school,  and  keep  their  plans  and  the  place 
selected  a  profound  secret  for  fear  Jackson 
might  in  some  way  continue  to  annoy  her, 
she  was  surprised  to  see  the  readiness  with 
which  Annie  assented. 

They  at  once  began  to  make  the  necessary 
arrangements  to  carry  out  their  plans  and 
after  much  careful  inquiry  decided  upon  a 
school  not  far  from  Utica,  New  York. 

As  the  time  drew  near  for  her  departure, 
she  felt  an  uncontrollable  longing  to  see,  or 
at  least  to  hear  from  Richard.  She  could 


UP  THE  GRADE  137 

not  write  to  him  with  propriety.  She  could 
not  take  any  steps  which  she  knew  would  be 
contrary  to  her  parents'  wishes,  or  that  her 
good  sense  told  her  would  be  forward  or 
indiscreet.  She  had  a  young  lady  acquaint 
ance  living  at  White  Wolf  Lake,  whom  she 
had  met  at  a  musical  convention  at  the  county 
seat.  That  was  not  far  from  where  he  was 
working.  She  would  write  her  and  incident 
ally  inquire  whether  she  had  ever  met  him, 
or  knew  anything  about  him.  It  was  a  bold 
thing  for  her  to  do,  but  she  would  put  it  in 
such  a  way  that  it  would  appear  that  she  was 
only  interested  as  a  schoolmate.  She  would 
say  that  a  rumor  had  reached  his  home  that 
he  was  growing  wild,  which,  for  his  mother's 
sake,  she  hoped  was  not  true,  etc.,  etc.  With 
a  very  uneasy  conscience  she  wrote  the  letter, 
and  awaited  the  answer  almost  breathlessly, 
fearing  it  might  not  come  before  the  next 
Thursday,  which  was  the  day  set  for  her  de 
parture,  now  only  two  days  away.  » 
Wednesday  passed  and  no  letter  came.  It 
was  a  dark,  cloudy  day,  a  day  of  sadness  for 
her,  made  the  more  so  by  her  troubled  state  of 
mind.  She  was  carrying  a  sorrow,  which 


138  UP  THE  GRADE 

she  could  not  take  to  her  mother  to  be  softened 
by  the  sweet  words  of  hope  and  sympathy 
which  only  a  mother  can  give. 

Tomorrow  night  she  must  go  out  through 
the  darkness  to  the  station,  wait  for  the  east- 
bound  train  which  passed  at  nine-thirty, 
and  say  good-bye  to  the  dear  ones  who  would 
follow  her  to  the  door  of  the  sleeping  car  and 
watch  her  out  of  sight.  The  boys  would  run 
along  the  depot  platform,  and  with  swimming 
eyes  peer  in  through  the  car  windows  to  get 
one  more  sight  of  her. 

In  her  fancy  she  could  almost  hear  the  bell 
and  the  conductor's  "all  aboard/'  and  hear 
the  chug,  chug,  of  the  engine,  and  smell  the 
varnish  of  the  shining,  polished  car  with  its 
stuffy  air,  and  see  the  strange  faces. 

She  could  hear  the  click,  click,  of  the  wheels 
as  they  passed  the  joints  of  the  rails,  measur 
ing  off  the  distance  by  seconds  that  was  to 
take  her  farther  and  farther  away  from  home. 

She  was  alone  in  her  room.  It  was  a  cheer 
less,  stormy  night.  The  drooping  boughs  of 
the  great  oaks  shaken  by  the  wind  shed  their 
teardrops  upon  the  roof,  which  tonight  would 
shelter  her  for  the  last  time  for  many  a  long 


UP  THE  GRADE  139 

and  lonely  month.  She  recalled  the  times 
when  the  gentle  raindrops  had  lulled  her  to 
sleep  beneath  that  same  roof. 

But  how  changed  tonight!  She  strove  to 
drive  away  the  gloom  that  now  clouded  her 
naturally  happy  heart. 

Perhaps  that  letter  would  come  tomorrow 
and  bring  good  news  that  would  give  the  lie 
to  the  rumors  that  had  wounded  her  trusting 
heart.  Possibly  Richard  might  come  home 
tonight — might  be  passing  even  then.  She 
took  up  the  lamp  and  mechanically,  without 
realizing  why,  placed  it  in  her  window.  It 
threw  a  ray  of  light  down  the  walk,  and  she 
saw  within  the  gate  the  white  shirt  front  and 
slouched  hat  of  Bill  Jackson.  As  she  hastily 
removed  the  lamp  and  lowered  the  shade,  she 
heard  the  gate  close  and  a  cold,  exultant  laugh. 

He  had  forced  her  to  acknowledge  his 
presence.  She  nearly  fainted  from  the  effect 
of  the  unexpected  apparition. 

Jackson  chuckled  to  himself — "  She  saw  me 
that  time."  As  he  slowly  walked  toward  the 
village,  he  did  not  hear  the  stealthy  footsteps 
of  a  man  who  was  following  him,  and  had  been 
shadowing  him  for  the  last  half  hour,  who 


140  UP  THE  GRADE 

had  seen  him  enter  the  gate,  and  was  so  near 
him  that  he  heard  and  understood  the  words 
he  uttered.  For  some  distance  the  man 
followed  him  like  a  sleuth  hound. 

There  was  something  about  him  that 
showed  that  Bill  Jackson's  life  was  in  danger. 
He  carried  a  long  rifle.  Suddenly  leaving 
the  road,  he  slipped  noiselessly  through  the 
field,  and  passing  Jackson,  took  a  position  in 
the  center  of  the  road  near  the  grove  where 
Jackson  had  first  met  Richard,  and  waited 
for  him.  The  " lovesick  operator"  was  in 
high  glee  at  the  success  of  his  escapade.  He 
was  entirely  oblivious  to  everything  but  his 
thoughts,  when  suddenly  he  ran  against  the 
muzzle  of  a  rifle,  which  was  held  rigidly  by 
the  steady  hands  of  an  old  man,  who  said  in 
an  equally  steady  voice : 

"  Now  yer  better  stand  still !  If  yer  holler 
or  move,  this  here  gun  goes  off,  and  when  she 
goes  off,  she  kills.  Her  name  is  ole  Grave 
Filler.  She's  be'n  my  pus'n'l  property  for 
forty  year,  an'  I  know  her  habits.  She's 
went  off  a  lot  in  'er  times,  and  made  button 
holes  in  the  hide  of  somethin',  and  a  hull  lot 
of  'em  was  humans,  and  none  of  'em  needed 


UP  THE  GRADE  141 

killin'  any  wuss'n  yeow  du.  She's  pokin' 
yeow  rite  over  the  heart,  an'  she  kin  feel  it 
jump,  and  she's  akin'  to  puncter  it." 

Jackson  was  nearly  ready  to  drop  to  the 
earth  with  fear.  He  tried  to  speak,  but  his 
tongue  thickened,  his  teeth  chattered — he 
dared  not  move. 

The  voice  continued : 

"  Don't  try  to  say  nothin'  if  yer  cain't.  I 
want  to  interduce  myself,  now  that  I've  made 
yer  acquainted  with  ole  Grave  Filler.  My 
name  is  Green.  They  call  me  Uncle  Nate. 
I  met  yer  rite  cher  the  day  after  you  jumped 
onter  one  of  the  best  boys  this  town  ever 
seen.  Sence  you've  be'n  in  this  place,  yer 
hain't  done  nothing  but  persecute  good 
people.  I  seen  you  tonight,  an'  I  cum  mighty 
ni'  lettin't'  ole  Grave  Filler  loose  on  ye.  Now 
youVe  got  to  leave  these  diggin's,  or  go  to 
the  boneyard,  if  you  hain't  gone  in  less'n 
two  days.  If  yer'll  go,  jest  git  down  on  yer 
marrer  bones  an'  hold  up  yer  hands.'1 

He  went  down  on  his  knees  in  the  muddy 
road,  held  up  both  hands  as  high  as  he  could 
reach  them,  and  began  to  bawl  like  a  weaned 
calf. 


142  UP  THE  GRADE 

Uncle  Nate — who,  by  the  way,  was  not 
nearly  as  dangerous  as  he  had  made  himself 
appear  to  be — having  accomplished  his  pur 
pose,  turned  and  walked  away,  disgusted  by 
the  exhibition  of  cowardice  he  had  witnessed, 
but  very  well  satisfied  with  his  evening's 
work. 

The  old  Indian  hunter  had  great  respect 
for  the  Reese  family,  and  from  her  childhood 
Annie  had  been  a  special  favorite  of  his.  He 
had  been  carefully  watching  the  performances 
of  the  operator,  and  tonight  he  had  reached 
the  limit  of  endurance.  Neither  he  nor  Jack 
son  had  the  slightest  suspicion  that  she  was 
going  away  so  soon. 

When  the  nine-thirty  train  arrived  that 
evening,  it  left  a  letter  for  Annie,  postmarked 
White  Wolf  Lake;  and  when  her  brother 
brought  it  to  her  the  next  morning,  she  took 
it  to  her  room,  and  hastily  tearing  it  open, 
read  after  two  or  three  pages  of  generalities, 
the  following  words,  which  went  like  a  dagger 
to  her  heart : 

"  I  have  met  the  Mr.  Williams  you  speak  of. 
He  is  very  bright  and  interesting.  Has  a  fine 
baritone  voice  and  sings  beautifully.  He  has 


UP  THE  GRADE  143 

been  at  our  church  several  times  lately.  I  am 
afraid  his  mother  would  not  be  happy  if  she 
knew  the  reports  about  him.  Mr.  Belden, 
the  man  he  is  working  for,  owns  a  race  horse, 
and  he  has  been  telling  everyone  that  he  is 
going  to  have  Mr.  Williams  for  a  driver.  It 
is  also  reported  that  he  goes  to  the  saloon  and 
plays  billiards  and  drinks  with  Mr.  Belden. 
The  latest  report  is  that  he  had  a  prize  fight 
last  Saturday  with  one  of  the  harvest  hands, 
and  came  out  champion.  Some  say  he  was 
forced  into  it,  and  it '  served  the  fellow  right.' 
It  will  all  be  in  the  paper  this  week.  I  will 
send  you  a  copy.  I  am  sorry,  for  he  is  a 
perfectly  splendid,  handsome  young  man,  so 
strong  and  brave  that  no  one  can  help  liking 
him/' 

The  letter  was  signed  Nettie  Jones. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  effect 
of  such  a  letter  at  this  time  upon  Annie.  She 
had  looked  for  it  with  high  hopes.  It  brought 
cruel  disappointment,  and  shook  the  founda 
tions  of  her  faith  in  one  whom  her  friend 
spoke  of  as  "strong  and  brave."  She  laid 
the  letter  carefully  away  in  her  trunk,  and, 
by  the  aid  of  her  strong  will,  resumed — to  all 


144  UP  THE  GRADE 

outward  appearances — her  natural  cheerful 
ness.  Her  mother  soon  joined  her,  and  be 
tween  them  every  dainty  little  piece  of  wear 
ing  apparel,  such  as  mothers  know  how  to 
provide,  and  lovely  young  ladies  know  how 
to  wear  to  the  best  advantage,  was  snugly 
packed  away,  and  all  was  ready  for  the  train 
that  would  take  her  to  new  scenes  and  new 
associations,  where  new  experiences  await 
her,  as  we  shall  see  later  on. 


CHAPTER  XX 
GOING  HOME 

THE  long-looked  for  day  had  come.  Our 
friend  Richard  is  going  home  tonight.  He 
has  almost  counted  the  hours.  The  last  few 
days  have  seemed  to  him  like  so  many  weeks, 
but  they  have  gone,  and  he  has  just  come 
from  his  room  all  ready  to  start  for  the  train. 
He  is  unnoticed  by  Maggie,  who  is  standing 
before  a  mirror  adjusting  those  long  red  ring 
lets,  wrinkling  her  forehead  and  puckering  her 
lips,  unconsciously  working  her  features  into 
the  most  laughable  grimaces.  She  is  com 
pletely  occupied  by  her  efforts  to  make  that 
refractory  twist  stay  where  she  wants  it  to 
stay,  when  she  is  suddenly  startled  by  a 
hearty  laugh  and  the  voice  of  Richard,  who 
asks: 

"What's  the  trouble,  Maggie,  something 
wrong  with  the  headlight?" 

"I'll  headlight  you  if  you  ever  scare  me 
like  that  again,"  she  answered  with  a  half- 
145 


146  UP  THE  GRADE 

angry  tone.  She  was  not  over  fond  of  a  joke, 
especially  when  it  had  reference  to  the  color 
of  her  hair,  but  his  jolly  laugh  was  contagious, 
and  falling  into  the  spirit  of  merriment  which 
he  brought  with  him,  she  continued : 

"  Perhaps  you'd  like  to  have  me  go  over  to 
the  siding  and  flag  the  train  for  you." 

"If  you  should  wear  the  expression  that 
you  had  on  when  I  came  into  the  room,  I  am 
afraid  the  train  would  jump  the  track.  Did 
you  hear  about  that  Chicago  lady?" 

"No,  what  about  her?" 

"Why,  I  was  reading  in  a  Chicago  paper 
that  they  have  a  lady  there  who  is  so  homely, 
that  when  she  has  on  her  sweetest  Sunday 
smile,  the  street  cars  shy  at  her." 

"I  think  yer  real  mean  to  make  such 
comparisons,  and  Fd  get  mad  if  'twasn't 
for  your  feeling  so  smart  because  yer  going 
home." 

"Well,  forgive  me  this  time,  and  PU  try 
and  be  more  careful  hereafter,"  and  he  brought 
out  a  number  of  parcels  and  began  to  make 
them  into  one  neat  package  to  be  more  con 
venient  for  carrying  on  the  train. 

"What  yer  got  in  them  papers?"  she  asked. 


UP  THE  GRADE  147 

"Looks  like  you'd  been  buying  out  some 
store" — her  curiosity  really  aroused  by  the 
display  of  his  purchases. 

"  Oh,  I  have  presents  for  each  of  the  family. 
Would  you  like  to  see  them?"  And  he  opened 
them  up  and  exhibited  them  for  her  benefit 
and  his  own  satisfaction,  while  they  both 
commented  on  each,  from  the  black  alpaca 
coat  and  vest  for  his  father  down  to  the  toys 
and  trinkets  for  the  baby  brother  Freddie. 
Maggie  complimented  his  taste,  and  seemed 
to  enjoy  the  surprise  he  was  to  give  them  as 
much  as  he. 

"You'll  make  a  great  family  man,  Richard. 
If  you  ever  get  a  wife,  she  will  be  well  pro 
vided  for." 

"I  hope  so,"  he  replied.  "I  shall  never 
have  one  until  I  am  sure  I  can  provide  for 
her." 

"If  she's  at  Black  Hawk  Spring,  she'll 
think  you're  just  stunnin',  when  she  sees  you 
in  that  fine  new  suit." 

He  made  no  reply,  but  if  he  had  acknow 
ledged  the  true  facts  in  the  case,  he  would 
have  said  that,  as  great  a  place  as  the  members 
of  his  own  home  circle  had  in  his  heart,  there 


148  UP  THE  GRADE 

was  one  at  Black  Hawk  Spring  who  had  a 
greater  hold  on  his  affections  than  all  the 
world,  and  that  the  supreme  pleasure  in  his 
home-going  this  time  was  the  anticipated 
interview  with  her.  He  felt  now  that  the 
conditions  were  such  that  he  could  freely  tell 
her  of  his  severe  experiences  of  the  last  few 
months — his  mistakes  and  victories  and  plans 
for  the  future  as  far  as  they  were  outlined. 
He  would  make  no  open  avowal  of  his  love. 
She  would  see  that  if  he  succeeded  in  his 
plans,  it  would  take  time,  hard  work  and 
much  self-denial  before  he  would  be  ready  to 
take  his  place  in  the  business  world  and 
become  established.  But  he  felt  sure  she 
would  speak  words  of  encouragement  which 
would  give  him  inspiration  to  work  and  wait. 
Perhaps  she  would  be  willing  to  have  him 
write  to  her  occasionally.  He  had  decided 
to  go  to  the  far  west  and  work  his  way  through 
school  and  into  some  lucrative  position.  It 
might  be  several  years  before  he  would  see 
her  again,  for  she  would  be  away  at  school 
before  he  went  home  to  say  good-bye.  What 
a  joy  it  would  be  to  get  letters  from  her,  and 
to  write  her  just  what  he  was  doing  and  how 


UP  THE  GRADE  149 

he  was  getting  along.  Surely  there  was 
nothing  wrong  in  presuming  that  she  would 
be  willing  to  keep  up  a  friendly  correspon 
dence  with  him. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  that  so  occupied 
his  mind  that  he  hardly  knew  when  he  changed 
cars  at  the  county  seat  and  took  the  east 
bound  express  that  would  stop  at  Black  Hawk 
Spring  in  half  an  hour. 

When  the  train  stopped  just  before  reach 
ing  the  station,  to  "wood  up"  and  "take 
water,"  his  impatience  was  so  great  he  jumped 
off,  and  hurried  to  the  station,  with  his  big 
bundle  in  one  hand  and  valise  in  the  other. 
There  were  several  of  his  acquaintances  on 
the  platform,  and  one  of  them  shouted, 
"There's  Richard  Williams,"  and  all  rushed 
up  to  shake  hands  with  him — among  them 
the  Reese  boys.  Thomas  said,  "Annie  is 
going  away  on  this  train.  We  are  all  down 
to  see  her  off." 

Richard  was  so  taken  by  surprise  that  for 
the  moment  he  was  almost  lost  in  bewilder 
ment;  but  instantly  regaining  himself,  he 
walked  resolutely  forward  to  where  Annie 
and  her  parents  had  stood  and  witnessed  the 


150  UP  THE  GRADE 

ovation  that  had  been  given  him.  As  he 
approached,  the  old  people  stepped  between 
him  and  Annie,  with  sternness  written  upon 
every  feature.  Neither  replied  to  his  friendly 
greeting,  but  seemed  disposed  to  block  his 
way.  Noticing  this,  he  crowded  past  them 
and  offered  his  hand  to  Annie,  saying: 

"The  boys  tell  me  you  are  going  away,  so 
I  must  say  how  do  you  do  and  good-bye  at 
the  same  time.  I  am  sorry  you  are  going. 
I  was  planning  on  spending  part  of  the  day 
with  you  tomorrow.  I  hope  you  are  not 
going  far/7 

She  took  his  hand  coolly  and  said,  "  I  shall 
be  gone  nearly  a  year."  She  dropped  his 
hand.  Her  parents  were  watching  every 
movement  and  listening  to  every  word.  The 
train  was  pulling  into  the  station.  Her  face, 
which  before  was  colorless,  suddenly  changed 
to  crimson;  and  as  though  impelled  by  some 
overmastering  emotion,  she  extended  her 
hand  and  again  took  his,  and,  with  a  look 
that  should  have  given  him  great  hope  and 
comfort,  said  "good-bye,"  stepped  on  the 
train  and  was  gone.  Richard  had  scored 
another  great  victory,  could  he  only  have 


UP  THE  GRADE  151 

known  it.  His  pride  was  touched.  He  then 
saw  only  the  cool  greeting  and  felt  the  tremor 
of  the  hand  which  for  a  moment  rested  in 
his.  He  turned  and  strode  down  the  plat 
form  with  a  firm  step  and  a  brave  and  proud 
bearing,  which  was  not  unnoticed  by  the 
elder  members  of  the  Reese  household.  Pick 
ing  up  his  luggage,  he  walked  down  the  rough, 
broad  steps  across  the  siding,  past  Jones' 
store,  toward  home. 

Our  old  friend  "Uncle  Nate"  Green  saw 
him  get  off  the  train,  and  he  held  a  short  con 
versation  with  himself,  a  habit  he  had  when 
a  little  wrought  up. 

"It  wud  be  jest  like  that  pesky  big  tele 
graph  chap  to  slip  up  and  knife  him  in  the 
dark  afore  he  gets  hum.  He's  coward  'nuff 
to  do  jest  that  kind  of  a  trick.  I  guess  old 
Nate  better  stroll  'long  over  that  way."  So, 
unknown  to  Richard,  he  shadowed  him  home. 
His  action  was  as  unnecessary  as  his  motive 
was  kind  and  sincere,  for  at  that  moment 
"Bill"  Jackson  was  in  his  room  packing  his 
effects;  and  when  the  westbound  midnight 
express  passed  Black  Hawk  Spring  that  night, 
it  took  Jackson  away  with  a  pass  in  his  pocket, 


152  UP  THE  GRADE 

signed  by  the  General  Superintendent,  which 
read: 

"COND'RS, 

Pass  W.  Jackson  B.  H.  Spring  to  Ogden  Utah, 
acct.  Opr." 

When  Richard  Williams  walked  along  the 
unlighted  street  leading  to  his  cottage  home, 
he  could  scarcely  recall  the  incidents  of  the 
last  few  minutes.  All  was  like  a  dream — 
a  bitter,  cruel  dream.  When  he  saw  the 
cheery  light  in  the  window,  he  stopped.  He 
must  not  carry  into  that  happy  circle  a  trace 
of  the  agony  of  mind,  the  wounded  pride  and 
disappointment  of  the  hour.  Unknowingly, 
he  put  to  a  practical  test  the  greatest  power 
in  nature's  vast  domain,  a  force  which  is 
now  stirring  the  thought  of  the  world, 
because  better  understood,  and  known  to 
science  under  various  names.  With  a  longing 
to  recover  at  once  a  perfect  mental  equilib 
rium,  a  temperament  in  harmony  with  the 
new  psychology,  the  conditions  perfect,  there 
in  the  darkness  and  silence  of  the  night,  he 
shut  out  from  his  mind  every  discordant 
thought,  went  down  into  the  subconscious 


UP  THE  GRADE  153 

where  man  in  God  meets  God  in  man,  and 
in  that  inexhaustible  fountain  of  healing 
where  the  mental  conceptions  are  renewed 
and  enlarged,  he  found  that  peace  and  quie 
tude  of  spirit  which  comes  from  no  other 
source. 

When  he  entered  the  house  with  a  smiling 
face,  he  was  ready  to  go  on  with  that  part  of 
his  program  in  a  manner  that  would  not  show 
that  any  part  had  been  interrupted. 

He  found  his  father  at  home,  and  a  joyous 
reunion  it  was.  After  a  great  romp  with  the 
children,  in  which  they  tired  themselves  out 
and  went  to  bed  to  dream  of  their  big  brother 
and  the  presents  he  had  brought  them,  the 
father,  mother  and  son  sat  down  together  for 
a  quiet  visit.  Richard  told  them  of  the  ex 
periences  through  which  he  had  passed,  and 
of  his  desire  to  leave  them  the  money  that 
he  would  have  when  his  time  was  out  at  Mr. 
Belden's,  and  go  to  some  new  field  and  try 
by  his  own  efforts  to  fit  himself  for  a  position 
that  would  enable  him  to  do  much  more  for 
them,  as  well  as  for  himself.  They  agreed 
that  this  plan  was  no  doubt  best  for  him,  and 
gave  him  every  encouragement,  striving  to 


154  UP  THE  GRADE 

hide  the  sadness  that  the  thought  of  such  a 
separation  naturally  produced. 

They  told  him  of  the  reports  that  had  been 
in  some  way  started  about  him,  and  explained 
that  they  had  not  mentioned  the  matter  in 
their  letters,  as  they  felt  assured  that  those 
who  knew  him  would  not  believe  them,  and 
it  would  be  best  to  let  them  go  unnoticed. 

His  father  added:  "You  know,  my  son, 
it  is  only  what  can  be  truthfully  said  against 
a  man's  character  that  he  need  fear.  False 
hood  can  only  injure  permanently  the  one 
who  utters  it." 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "but  in  this  case  there 
is,  unfortunately,  some  foundation  for  the 
reports." 

His  mother  then  gave  him  a  full  account 
of  the  actions  of  the  operator,  repeating  his 
own  version  of  "the  way  he  was  sent  away" 
from  the  Reese  home,  and  reminding  Richard 
that  the  trouble  began  on  the  day  of  his  last 
visit.  She  said:  "You  remember  he  went 
home  with  them  from  church  that  day?" 

She  also  told  him  of  the  threats  Jackson 
was  making  and  her  fears  that  he  might  do 
him  harm,  and  how  she  had  been  dreading 


UP  THE  GRADE  155 

his  home  coming  for  fear  of  trouble  between 
them. 

"I  hope  you  will  see  Annie  tomorrow,  and 
tell  her  the  story  you  told  me,  when  you  were 
home  the  last  time." 

"I  had  intended  to  do  so,"  he  answered, 
"but  she  left  town  tonight,"  and  he  told  them 
of  the  circumstances  of  his  meeting  them  at 
the  train  that  evening.  They  were  greatly 
surprised;  but  his  mother  saw  intuitively 
the  cause  of  her  going  away  so  quietly  and 
the  motive  therefor,  and  explained  it  as  she 
saw  it,  commending  the  course  they  had  taken. 
She  also  expressed  her  belief  that  Jackson 
was  responsible  for  the  treatment  Richard 
had  received  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reese,  and 
justified  their  actions  on  the  grounds  of  their 
honest  belief  in  the  exaggerated  reports 
derogatory  to  him,  which  no  doubt  were 
instigated  by  Jackson.  Then,  with  a  mother's 
solicitude,  she  begged  him  not  to  allow  any 
thing  Jackson  might  say  or  do  aggravate  him 
to  do  anything  that  he  would  afterwards 
regret 

He  told  her  how  he  and  Jackson  had  already 
had  a  harmless  trial  of  strength,  and  he  did 


156  UP  THE  GRADE 

not  think  there  was  any  danger  of  his  attempt 
ing  to  carry  out  any  of  his  threats,  so  she 
could  set  her  mind  at  rest  as  far  as  that  was 
concerned. 

"But,"  he  said,  "I  shall  certainly  call  upon 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reese,  and  ask  them  for  an 
explanation,  which  I  think  justly  due  me." 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  "WHITE  CAP" 

WHEN  Richard  made  his  appearance  at  the 
Reese  farm  the  next  day,  Mr.  Reese  became 
greatly  excited  and  ordered  him  off  the  prem 
ises,  but  Richard's  firm  and  yet  respectful  de 
portment  gained  him  sufficient  hearing  to  say : 

"  I  came  to  ask  you  why  yourself  and  Mrs. 
Reese  have  refused  to  speak  to  me.  It  is 
only  just  and  right  that  you  should  tell  me 
what  you  have  against  me." 

Mr.  Reese,  speaking  in  a  very  loud  tone  of 
voice,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  when  excited, 
and  sadly  mixing  his  native  tongue  with 
English,  said : 

"  No  you  think  we  know  about  your  drink 
ing?  Driving  race  horse?  Fighting  prizes?" 

"Read  in  this  paper,"  said  Mrs.  Reese. 
"It  came  this  day — then  what  can  you  say? 
You  keep  the  paper.  Take  it  and  go  home, 
we  do  not  want  it." 

He  took  the  paper  and  answered  quietly 
but  firmly : 

157 


158  UP  THE  GRADE 

"  I  have  great  respect  for  you,  and  the  day 
will  come  when  you  will  both  have  the  same 
for  me.  I  will  not  make  any  explanation  now. 
When  you  find  that  you  are  wrong  and  have 
done  me  a  great  injustice,  I  shall  expect  you  to 
speak  to  me,  if  after  that  time  we  should  meet 
again.  I  shall  always  think  of  you  kindly  until 
that  time,  which  will  surely  come.  Good-bye. " 

With  this  manly  speech,  which  was  delivered 
so  slowly  and  calmly  that  they  both  under 
stood  and  remembered  every  word,  he  walked 
away,  with  so  much  of  proud,  manly  dignity 
in  his  bearing  that  they  were  impressed  by  it 
even  in  the  excited  condition  of  their  minds. 

When  he  opened  the  paper,  after  reaching 
home,  he  found  it  was  the  White  Cap,  pub 
lished  at  White  Wolf  Lake.  Under  flashing 
headlines  in  the  sporting  column,  he  read : 

"EXCITING  PRIZE  FIGHT " 


JOHN  NOLAN,  THE  ST.  CROIX  GIANT,  KNOCKED  OUT 

IN  NINE  ROUNDS.     DICK  WILLIAMS  A  LIKELY 

CANDIDATE  FOR  CHAMPIONSHIP  HONORS 


ABRAHAM  YALE  IN  A  NEW  ROLE,  ACTS  AS  SECOND  FOR 

WILLIAMS 

Last  Saturday  afternoon,  at  the  Belden  Farm,  John 
Nolan,  a  heavyweight  from  the  lumber  regions,  who 


UP  THE  GRADE  159 

has  been  training  by  three  weeks  in  the  harvest  field, 
and  young  Williams,  who  is  working  for  Mr.  Belden 
this  summer,  fought  to  a  finish,  with  Judge  Densmore 
referee.  To  the  surprise  of  the  large  crowd  that 
gathered  to  witness  the  fight,  Williams  put  Nolan  to 
sleep  in  the  ninth  round.  The  fight  had  some  unusual 
features,  as  it  was  the  first  one  Williams  ever  saw,  and 
must  have  been  unusually  interesting  as  our  esteemed 
friend,  Abraham  Yale,  who  has  not  the  reputation  of 
mixing  in  such  affairs,  came  upon  the  scene  when  the 
fight  was  at  the  most  critical  stage  and  became  so 
interested  that  he  volunteered  to  second  Williams. 
Nolan  began  to  get  groggy  in  the  sixth  round,  and  by 
the  ninth  Williams  had  him  at  his  mercy.  He  showed 
severe  punishment,  but  Williams  got  off  without  a 
scratch.  Nolan  never  "found  him"  but  once,  and 
then  without  effect.  Williams  will  be  challenged  at 
once  by  Bob  Billings,  the  middle  weight  champion  of 
local  fame;  and  the  Lakeside  Athletic  Club  has  offered 
a  purse  of  a  thousand  dollars.  It  is  feared,  however, 
that  Williams  will  decline  the  honor,  as  his  friends  say 
he  is  not  exactly  the  right  make-up  to  be  fascinated  by 
the  "  manly  art "  to  such  an  extent  as  to  take  it  up  as 
a  profession.  But  no  one  can  tell  what  he  will  decide 
until  he  is  heard  from.  Some  of  the  greatest  pugilists 
who  have  made  great  reputations  and  big  money 
started  out  in  just  this  way.  Williams  certainly  has  a 
future  and  a  fortune  if  he  only  goes  after  it." 

The  date  of  this  paper  was  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  century  ago,  but  for  clean  journal- 


160  UP  THE  GRADE 

ism  and  fidelity  to  truth,  it  was  far  above  the 
average  "  yellow  sheet "  of  the  present  day. 

As  Richard  began  to  read  the  paper,  the 
color  mounted  to  his  temples,  and  before 
he  had  finished  great  drops  of  perspiration 
beaded  his  forehead. 

His  mother,  seeing  the  agonized  look,  came 
to  his  side,  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his 
brow,  stroked  his  hair  soothingly  and  said, 
"What  is  it  that  so  disturbs  my  son?" 

He  handed  her  the  paper  and  told  her  how 
he  came  by  it.  Just  then  the  voice  of  his 
brother  Eddie  was  heard,  and  bursting  into 
the  room,  he  shouted : 

"  Big  Jackson  has  gone  to  Orgdum.  There's 
a  new  operator  at  the  depot." 

"Gone  where?"  asked  his  mother. 

"I  heard  the  section  boss  tell  the  hand-car 
men  that  Orgdum  was  near  Salt  Creek  on  the 
Onion  Parific.  He  said  he  was  glad,  an7  I'm 
glad,  too.  He  knocked  my  ball  way  out  in 
the  pasture  in  the  smartweed — an'  I  never 
found  it — an'  he  broke  my  bat.  I  hope  he 
won't  never  come  back." 

The  door  slammed  and  he  was  off  as  quickly 
as  he  had  come. 


UP  THE  GRADE  161 

Mrs.  Williams  read  the  White  Cap  version 
of  Richard's  adventure,  folded  the  paper 
slowly,  and  seating  herself  by  his  side,  said : 

"That  shows  how  little  reliance  can  be 
placed  on  a  sensational  newspaper  article. 
It  is  unfortunate,  but  there  is  nothing  to  be 
gained  by  brooding  over  it.  It  has  done  all 
the  harm  it  can  do.  Bury  it  as  one  of  the 
incidents  of  the  past,  and  go  on  to  as  great 
victories  in  the  laudable  efforts  of  life  as  they 
seem  to  have  given  you  credit  for  in  this." 

"That  which  hurts  me,"  said  Richard,  "is 
the  drawing  of  the  name  of  Mr.  Yale  into  the 
affair  as  they  have.  I  feel  that  I  have  brought 
disgrace  upon  him.  I  shall  go  back  tonight 
and  see  him  at  once,  and  if  there  is  anything 
I  can  do  to  put  the  matter  right,  it  shall  be 
done." 

"  Did  not  Mr.  Yale  say  he  was  not  ashamed 
of  you?  God  has  given  you  strength  to 
defend  yourself,  and  I  would  be  ashamed  of 
you  if  you  did  not  use  it  in  such  a  time  of 
need,  or  in  the  defense  of  any  righteous  cause." 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  ULTIMATUM 

MR.  STEVEN  HENRY  BELDEN  was  in  the 
office  of  the  White  Cap.  He  had  furnished 
the  account  of  the  fight,  and  he  was  just  re 
ceiving  the  congratulations  of  the  editor  on 
his  "reportorial  ability ,"  when  Mr.  Abraham 
Yale  walked  into  the  office.  Their  conversa 
tion  immediately  ceased,  and  each  assumed  a 
respectful  silence.  If  they  were  looking  for 
an  outburst  of  Mr.  Yale's  indignation,  they 
were  not  to  be  disappointed. 

"  I  came  in  to  ask  the  name  of  the  one  who 
wrote  the  account  of  the  assault  which  was 
made  upon  a  young  man  at  the  home  of  Mr. 
Belden  last  Saturday.  Who  wrote  that  lie?" 
he  asked  calmly. 

The  editor,  greatly  abashed  by  the  blunt- 
ness  of  the  query  and  the  immediate  presence 
of  the  man  Mr.  Yale  was  looking  for,  answered 
meekly — "I— I — got  my  information  from 
a  gentleman  who  was  an  eye  witness." 

162 


UP  THE  GRADE  163 

"  Did  he  write  it?" 

"Yes." 

"His  name?" 

"His  name  is  Belden." 

"Yes,  I  wrote  it,"  said  Mr.  Belden,  with 
changing  color. 

"You  will  undo  the  wrong  you  have  done." 

"Upon  what  authority  do  you  make  the 
demand?"  said  Belden  doggedly. 

"As  Richard  Williams'  second,"  was  the 
answer. 

"I  regret  that  your  name  was  mentioned, 
but  I  assure  you  it  was  done  jokingly,  and  I 
will  gladly  authorize  our  friend,  the  editor, 
to  so  state  in  his  next  issue  without  using  my 
name,  of  course.  I  have  no  other  apology 
to  make." 

This  was  said  by  Mr.  Belden  in  so  decisive 
a  tone  that  it  would  appear  that  he  considered 
his  proposal  closed  the  incident.  He  was 
soon  convinced  however,  that  the  subject  was 
still  open  for  discussion,  and  that  Abraham 
Yale  was  not  to  be  put  off  so  easily.  His 
black  eyes  shining  like  blazing  spear  points 
seemed  to  pierce  the  veil  of  Mr.  Belden's 
hypocrisy  and  to  look  him — body  and  char- 


164  UP  THE  GRADE 

acter — through  and  through.  He  fixed  his 
gaze  upon  him  and  held  it  there  without 
speaking.  The  effect  upon  the  cunning  gam 
bler  was  electrical.  He  stood  like  one  trans 
fixed  by  a  magnetic  needle.  The  spirit  of 
bravado  left  him.  He  had  time  to  weigh  the 
proposal  he  had  made.  His  name  must  not 
be  used  in  print,  yet  he  had  wilfully  and 
maliciously  used  the  name  of  others  with 
intent  to  injure  them.  The  silence  was 
broken  by  Mr.  Yale. 

"  I  am  not  here  to  represent  Abraham  Yale. 
I  am  here  to  protect  the  name  and  character 
of  an  honest  man.  John  Nolan,  Moline  and 
Johnson  have  made  sworn  statements,  show 
ing  that  you  promised  Nolan  a  certain  sum 
of  money  to  inflict  upon  Mr.  Williams  severe 
bodily  injury  and  to  such  an  extent  that  'his 
own  mother  would  not  recognize  him/  These 
three  witnesses  are  detained  by  the  state's 
attorney.  You  will  authorize  this  editor  to 
publish  a  statement,  plainly  setting  forth 
these  facts,  and  use  your  name,  or  you  will 
answer  to  the  law." 

There  was  nothing  of  anger,  revenge  or  the 
least  excitement  in  the  look  or  language  of 


UP  THE  GRADE  165 

the  speaker.  It  was  the  voice  of  justice  call 
ing  for  its  own — the  right,  bringing  the  wrong 
under  complete  subjugation.  When  Mr. 
Yale  finished  his  ultimatum,  he  again  fixed 
his  gaze  upon  the  owner  of  Maid  of  the  West, 
and  awaited  his  answer. 

The  first  thought  that  came  to  Belden  was 
to  offer  money  to  hush  the  matter  up,  but 
he  knew  that  with  such  a  man  as  he  had  to 
deal  with  that  would  be  dangerous;  and 
knowing  that  a  criminal  action  under  so 
serious  a  charge  would  make  him,  in  the  eye 
of  the  law,  at  least,  equally  as  guilty  as  the 
one  who  made  the  assault,  he  said : 

"I  acknowledge  the  truth  of  the  charge 
you  make,  and  will  authorize  the  publication 
of  such  a  statement  as  you  demand." 

"  And  I  will  see  that  the  matter  is  properly 
written  up  and  Mr.  Belden's  name  is  used  as 
it  should  be,  since  he  has  acknowledged  his 
part  in  it.  I  will  ask  Mr.  Yale  to  give  me  the 
facts,"  said  the  editor,  taking  up  his  note 
book. 

Mr.  Yale  gave  him  the  facts,  omitting  any 
reference  to  the  part  he  had  taken  or  the  use 
of  his  name  in  the  former  article,  and  Mr. 


166  UP  THE  GRADE 

Belden  admitted  the  truth  of  the  details  as  he 
gave  them. 

In  truth  the  editor  was  delighted  to  get 
the  matter  for  "a  story"  that  would  be  so 
interesting  to  the  readers  of  the  White  Cap. 
He  devoted  two  columns  to  it,  and  thence 
forth  Mr.  Steven  Henry  Belden  was  known 
and  looked  upon  in  that  community  for  what 
he  really  was. 

For  the  sake  of  policy,  the  visits  of  Doctor 
Haskell  to  the  Belden  farm  were  discontinued. 

On  the  day  that  the  next  issue  of  the  White 
Cap  came  out,  Mr.  Belden  apologized  to 
Richard  and  paid  him  off,  including  the  few 
days  yet  remaining  under  their  agreement, 
which  Richard  assured  him  he  was  willing  to 
complete,  but  he  was  told  that  he  had  earned 
much  more  than  he  had  been  paid. 

Judge  Densmore  also  gave  him  the  amount 
due  according  to  his  promise,  and  he  left 
the  farm  no  longer  Mr.  Belden's  "hired  man." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
WORKING  His  WAY 

BEFORE  going  home,  whence  he  was  soon 
to  go  out  into  the  world  alone  to  battle  with 
new  and  untried  experiences,  Richard  wisely 
visited  Mr.  Yale  and  told  him  how  he  had 
decided  to  leave  his  money  with  his  parents 
and  go  out,  empty-handed,  and  try  by  his 
own  unaided  efforts  to  make  for  himself  an 
honored  place  in  the  world.  That  good  man 
heartily  approved  of  his  plans  and  gave  him 
much  encouragement  and  much  helpful  sug 
gestion. 

In  parting,  Mr.  Yale  said:  "Above  all 
things,  let  your  life  and  thoughts  be  so  or 
dered  that  you  will  recognize  and  follow  the 
leadings  of  the  spirit. " 

He  explained  to  Richard  the  dual  nature 
of  man  and  showed  him  how  the  spiritual 
can  be  cultivated  to  such  a  degree  that  it  will 
at  all  times  be  in  such  harmony  with  the 
Great  Spirit  of  love  and  truth  that  the  Divine 

167 


168  UP  THE  GRADE 

influence  will  at  times  seem  to  be  miraculous; 
that  he  would  find  this  as  true  in  the  little 
things  of  life  as  in  the  great  emergencies. 

If,  as  we  have  said,  "Doctor  Haskell  was 
an  excellent  forerunner  of  those  who,  in  the 
present  day,  preach  the  'higher  criticism/" 
Mr.  Yale  was  an  equally  good  forerunner  of 
those  who  are  now  demonstrating  the  healing 
power  of  the  gospel  of  truth  and  love.  While 
the  former  are  sowing  the  seed  of  doubt  and 
infidelity  in  the  mind  of  the  young,  and  setting 
at  naught  the  faith  of  the  fathers  by  weaving 
the  web  of  doubt  and  weakening  the  spiritual 
vitality  of  the  church,  the  latter — the  new 
psychology — though  known  by  various  names, 
but  in  reality,  the  old  gospel  of  truth,  comes 
with  an  unanswerable  flood  of  personal  testi 
mony  in  proof  of  the  divinity  of  the  Christ 
and  His  healing  power.  This  vindication  of 
the  faith  of  the  founders  should  quicken  and 
revivify  the  Church  and  counteract  the  adverse 
influence  of  the  "higher  critic." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williams  were  as  much  sur 
prised  when  their  son  walked  in  upon  them 
so  unexpectedly,  as  they  were  proud  and 
thankful  to  hear  of  the  satisfactory  manner 


UP  THE  GRADE  169 

in  which  his  relations  were  severed,  and  the 
good  name  he  had  left  behind  him.  Long 
and  earnest  was  the  family  council  held  that 
night  in  the  Williams'  cottage.  Richard  laid 
a  purse  upon  the  table  containing  all  his 
money,  excepting  a  few  dollars  which  re 
mained  of  the  first  installment  Judge  Dens- 
more  gave  him,  and  which  he  had  promised 
to  use  for  his  own  personal  benefit.  He  told 
them,  that  first  of  all  his  aim  was  to  get  into 
school;  and  by  some  honorable  employment, 
no  matter  how  menial,  to  earn  the  means  to 
complete  a  full  course  of  study  in  civil  engi 
neering,  which  had  long  been  his  choice. 
Mr.  Yale  had  told  him  that  through  the 
mountain  regions  of  the  west  and  along  the 
Pacific  coast  the  topography  of  the  country 
was  such  that  in  the  construction  of  railroads 
there  would  be  tunnels,  bridges  and  grades 
through  and  over  what  would  be  looked  upon 
as  almost  insurmountable  obstacles,  and  great 
mining  and  irrigating  projects  would  necessi 
tate  the  construction  of  aqueducts  and  the 
installation  of  heavy  machinery,  all  of  which 
would  require  skilled  engineers;  and  he  men 
tioned  one  school  in  particular  which  had 


170  UP  THE  GRADE 

been  specially  equipped  for  a  most  scientific 
and  thorough  course  in  that  branch  of  educa 
tion,  and  so  located  that  the  students,  during 
vacation,  could  probably  find  employment 
with  surveying  parties,  and  thus  acquire 
practical  knowledge  of  the  studies  they  were 
pursuing. 

"I  will  work  my  way  to  that  school  and 
through  it"  said  Richard,  "if  it  takes  ten 
years." 

They  urged  him  to  use  more  of  the  money, 
but  he  had  settled  in  his  mind  just  what  he 
would  do,  and  could  not  be  moved  from  that 
decision. 

"You  will  not  start  for  some  time  yet?" 
asked  his  mother.  "You  will  stay  and  rest 
for  a  few  days,  at  least?" 

"I  will  stay  until  next  Thursday,  and  go 
on  the  midnight  express  that  night.  That 
will  be  time  enough  for  all  the  rest  I  will  need. 
We  will  make  the  most  of  it,  and  have  a  grand 
good  time." 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  these  fond  parents 
retired  that  night  with  heavy  hearts;  but 
they  tried  to  conceal  their  feelings,  well  know 
ing  that  their  son  would  feel  the  pain  of  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  171 

separation  as  deeply  as  they;  but  they  were 
proud  of  the  determination  and  courage  with 
which  he  entered  upon  so  great  an  under 
taking. 

And  so  it  happened  that  just  three  weeks 
from  the  night  that  Annie  Reese  took  the 
train  for  the  east,  Richard  Williams  started 
for  the  west,  leaving  his  loved  ones  standing 
on  the  depot  platform  watching  the  departing 
train  and  listening  to  the  receding  rumble  of 
the  wheels  until  it  was  lost  to  sight  and  sound 
in  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
THE  WARBURTON  MANSION 

SINCE  fate  had  decreed  that  the  inmates  of 
a  certain  home  shall  enter  into  and  greatly 
influence  the  life  and  happiness  of  one  in 
whom  we  have  become  deeply  interested,  we 
must,  even  at  the  risk  of  overstepping  good 
manners,  draw  aside  the  curtain  and  force 
an  acquaintance. 

That  home  stands  upon  the  bank  of  the 
noble  St.  Lawrence,  upon  an  eminence  which 
sets  it  forth  in  so  much  prominence  that  at 
first  sight  it  would  be  mistaken  for  one  of  the 
Thousand  Islands,  which  lift  their  heads 
above  its  turbulent  waters.  The  building 
is  as  imposing  as  the  site  upon  which  it  stands. 
Its  massive  colonial  pillars,  the  broad  porches, 
the  palatial  grandeur  which  surrounds  it, 
suggest  at  once  great  wealth  used  with  a 
lavish  hand,  possibly  for  the  gratification  of 
selfish  pride.  Upon  a  gilded  door  plate  is 
engraved  the  name,  "  Joseph  Warburton." 

172 


UP  THE  GRADE  173 

In  the  dazzling  splendor  of  the  interior  in 
finish  and  in  furnishing  there  is  a  lack  of  har 
mony,  which  to  the  practiced  eye  would 
suggest  that  the  hand  of  the  sculptor  who 
had  carved  the  beams  and  panels,  and  of  the 
artist  whose  brush  had  put  on  the  decora 
tions  and  ornamentations,  were  guided  and 
hampered  by  the  brain  of  one  who  lacked 
refined  taste. 

Joseph  Warburton  was  the  son  of  one  who 
began  life  upon  the  towpath,  rose  to  a  partner 
in  a  canal  boat,  from  that  te  a  wealthy  stock 
holder  and  director  in  a  corporation  which 
was  engaged  in  the  business  of  transportation 
by  water  and  land,  and  amassed  a  large  for 
tune,  which  this  son  had  inherited. 

Before  he  became  possessed  of  his  inheri 
tance,  he  married  a  plain  "Susan  Brown," 
whose  father  sold  cheese,  butter,  eggs,  tea, 
coffee  and  dried  apples,  and  "kept  the  post- 
office"  at  the  country  crossroads  village. 
Plain  only  in  name,  for  Susan  Brown  was  a 
beauty,  her  beauty  of  face  and  figure  captured 
the  heart  and  turned  the  head  of  the  heir  to 
the  Warburton  estate.  Susan  had  been  a 
spoiled  child,  and  now,  as  Mrs.  Joseph  War- 


174  UP  THE  GRADE 

burton,  having  the  means  to  gratify  every 
wish,  had  grown  into  a  scheming,  selfish 
woman  of  wealth,  who  would  not  be  denied, 
and  usually  found  a  way  to  secure  whatever 
she  set  her  heart  upon.  Her  two  children, 
now  in  school,  the  son  Vincent  at  Yale,  the 
daughter  Vivian  at  a  noted  seminary  in  her 
native  state,  she  counted  as  a  part  of  herself, 
and  neither  of  them  were  to  be  denied  that 
which  she  thought  to  be  necessary  for  their 
comfort  or  happiness.  The  son,  who  was  a 
brilliant  and  attractive  young  man — as  kind 
and  generous  as  one  could  be  who  had  never 
known  a  wish  ungratified — was  very  popular 
with  his  college  chums;  and  partaking  of  the 
intellectual  strength  of  his  father,  combined 
with  the  cunning  of  his  mother,  had  the 
diplomacy  necessary  to  make  himself  appear 
whatever  circumstances  or  environment  de 
manded.  He  was  never  hindered  by  his 
conscience  in  exercising  these  inborn  qualities 
of  character  when  the  object  to  be  attained 
seemed  to  warrant  it. 

Vivian  was  the  opposite.  She  was  natural, 
unaffected,  sincere.  No  amount  of  influence 
could  change  her  nature.  Much  of  the  sta- 


UP  THE  GRADE  175 

bility  and  integrity  of  her  father's  family 
seemed  to  become  reincarnated  in  her  life 
and  character,  while  she  had  inherited  only 
the  physical  beauty  of  her  mother.  As  a 
delicately  tinted  rose,  engrafted  upon  some 
sturdy  and  hardy  root,  might  retain  the 
characteristics  of  both,  so  had  she. 

It  was  summer.  The  cottages  upon  the 
islands,  which  had  been  so  long  vacant,  were 
again  filled  with  life  and  music.  The  great 
pleasure  resorts  along  the  shores  were  crowded 
by  the  hosts  of  comfort  seekers,  who,  like 
birds  of  passage,  came  flocking  back  for  their 
annual  visit  to  the  Thousand  Islands,  seeking 
a  respite  from  the  noise,  dust  and  busy  cares 
of  the  city.  The  water  was  teeming  with 
craft  of  all  sorts  which  were  gliding  to  and  fro 
through  the  deep,  narrow  channels. 

This  was  to  be  a  season  of  unusual  enjoy 
ment,  yachting,  regattas,  lawn  parties  and 
fetes  at  the  great  hotels  in  honor  of  noted 
personages  from  the  large  cities. 

Vivian  'Warburton  had  just  returned  for 
the  summer  vacation.  She  and  her  mother 
were  alone  in  one  of  the  grand  parlors  of  the 
Warburton  mansion.  The  mother  was  reclin- 


176  UP  THE  GRADE 

ing  upon  silk  and  satin  pillows,  thrown  care 
lessly  over  a  divan  which  was  covered  with 
rich  oriental  drapery,  while  Vivian  sat  at  her 
feet  on  a  low  ottoman,  in  a  plain,  simple  gown. 
Her  face  flushed  with  pleasure  as  she  recounted 
the  events  of  the  school  year,  now  closed. 
Her  mother  was  listening  to  her  happy  girlish 
talk,  keenly  interested  in  every  detail. 

When  Vivian  came  to  the  new  acquaint 
ances  she  had  formed,  she  burst  out:  "Oh, 
mamma,  of  them  all,  there  are  none  like  our 
sweet  'Wild  Rose  from  the  West.7  When 
she  first  came  among  us,  one  of  the  girls 
introduced  her  as  the  '  Western  Rosebud/ 
From  that  we  all  got  to  calling  her  Rose.  I 
do  believe  there  are  lots  of  girls  who  do  not 
know  her  real  name.  It  was  so  good  of  you 
to  let  me  invite  her  to  visit  us.  I  have  been 
so  happy  ever  since.  You  know  she  lives 
way  out  west.  When  she  first  came  to  school 
she  was  very  homesick,  but  she  never  told 
anyone  but  me."  H**s* 

"Yes,"  interupted  her  mother,  ''we  have 
heard  so  much  about  her  through  your  letters, 
we  are  quite  anxious  to  see  her.  When  did 
you  say  she  will  be  here?" 


UP  THE  GRADE  177 

"  Saturday  evening,"  said  Vivian,  con 
tinuing  her  eulogy.  "  When  you  see  her,  you 
will  understand  why  I  love  her  so  much. 
You  know  I  never  had  a  sister.  I  do  not 
imagine  how  one  could  love  a  sister  more 
than  I  do  her.  They  say  she  will  make  one 
of  the  world's  great  singers.  Such  a  voice! 
So  rich  and  melting !  Oh,  I  wish  Vincent  was 
at  home.  I  am  sure  he  would  like  her  very 
much.  Oh,  if  he  should  marry  her,  then  we 
would  have  her  all  the  time." 

"  Vincent  will  be  home  next  week,  my 
dear,"  said  her  mother,  "but  you  must  not 
speak  like  that  again.  You  must  be  more 
discreet.  You  know  nothing  about  the 
family  of  this  new  acquaintance.  Their  sta 
tion  in  life  may  be,  probably  is,  below  his. 
Such  suggestions  might  work  harm.  Do  not 
mention  such  a  thing  to  him." 

"Vejy  well,  I  will  not  speak  of  it  again, 
only  to  you.  She  will  only  stay  a  few  days 
with  us  this  time,  but  I  am  going  to  bring  her 
home  with  me  for  the  holiday  vacation  next 
winter." 

When  Saturday  evening  came,  Vivian  was 
at  the  train  with  sparkling  eyes  and  smiling 


178  UP  THE  GRADE 

face,  to  meet  her  friend.  Her  mother 
accompanied  her  in  their  finest  turnout, 
her  coachman  and  footman  in  immaculate 
livery. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  ATHLETE 

COMMENCEMENT  was  over  at  Yale,  and  the 
students  were  going  home.  A  dozen  young 
men  of  prominent  families  of  national  repute 
were  going  on  the  same  train.  Just  as  the 
conductor  shouted  "  all  aboard !"  a  young  man 
came  running  through  the  gate  and  scrambled 
aboard.  "Hullo,  Wab,"  shouted  a  young 
man  with  eyeglasses,  "thought  you  were 
going  with  the  football  team  tomorrow." 

"The  game's  off,  and  I  am  off  for  home," 
said  Vincent  Warburton,  speaking  with  diffi 
culty,  while  striving  to  regain  his  breath. 

"Three  cheers  for  Warburton,  the  crack 
fullback!"  shouted  the  young  man  with  the 
eyeglasses.  The  hearty  cheers  that  went  up, 
and  the  greeting  he  received  as  they  all 
crowded  around  him,  showed  him  to  be  a 
general  favorite  with  them  all.  It  took  but 
a  glance  to  show  that  he  was  justly  so,  for  he 
was  by  far  the  most  striking  figure  in  the 

179 


180  UP  THE  GRADE 

group — a  handsome,  intellectual  athlete —  one 
who  would  attract  attention  anywhere. 

One  can  easily  imagine  the  enlivening  effect 
such  a  lot  of  young  men,  free  from  restraint 
and  full  of  young  life  and  vigor,  would  have 
upon  the  other  occupants  of  a  crowded  rail 
way  coach.  As  their  journey  progressed, 
several  left  the  train,  but  those  left  behind 
made  up  in  liveliness  what  they  lacked  in 
numbers. 

A  young  lady  came  aboard  at  one  of  the 
large  cities  and  quietly  took  her  seat  un 
noticed  by  them.  She  appeared  to  be  reading, 
but  a  close  observer  would  have  noticed  that 
she  was  not  as  much  interested  in  her  book 
as  she  was  in  the  antics  of  "that  college 
crowd,"  as  she  heard  one  of  the  passengers 
who  sat  near  her  speak  of  them.  In  fact, 
she  was  "sizing  them  up,"  and  evidently 
getting  some  enjoyment  in  trying  to  read 
them.  While  she  was,  as  she  thought,  en 
tirely  unnoticed  by  any  of  the  passengers, 
she  was  suddenly  brought  back  from  her 
meditations  by  the  discovery  that  Vincent 
Warburton  had  his  eyes  riveted  upon  her. 
She  immediately  resumed  her  reading,  but 


UP  THE   GRADE  181 

when  she  chanced  to  look  away  from  her  book 
for  a  moment,  their  eyes  met,  but  there  was 
so  much  of  cold  dignity  in  the  look  which 
she  calmly  gave  him,  that,  feeling  rebuked, 
he  joined  his  companions,  and  a  low  conver 
sation  ensued,  at  which,  could  she  have  heard 
it,  she  would  have  been  deeply  offended. 

Warburton,  speaking  in  a  low  tone,  said: 
"Have  any  of  you  noticed  how  exquisitely 
beautiful  that  young  lady  is?  Don't  look 
that  way  now.  She  is  reading — just  back 
of  the  center  of  the  coach  on  the  other  side. 
I  would  give  half  my  vacation  to  know  who 
she  is  and  where  she  is  going. " 

"  Are  you  hit?"  said  one  of  his  companions. 

"I  am  afraid  I  am,"  he  answered,  "and  Fll 
hit  you,  if  you  don't  keep  your  eyes  away  from 
that  side  of  the  coach." 

"Don't  worry  about  Wab — he  has  been 
hit  before,"  said  a  young  man,  whose  father, 
then  a  distinguished  statesman,  afterwards 
became  President  of  the  United  States. 

"Hit  or  not  hit,"  said  Warburton,  "I  leave 
this  train  at  the  next  station,  and  I  see  I  must 
leave  her  to  your  tender  care." 

They  all  went  back  to  the  next  coach  where 


182  UP  THE  GRADE 

he  had  left  his  luggage.  When  the  "next  sta 
tion"  was  reached,  they  all  crowded  around 
him,  determined  to  prevent  his  getting  off; 
but  by  using  some  of  his  football  tactics,  he 
broke  away  from  them  after  the  train  had 
pulled  past  the  station,  leaving  his  luggage 
with  them.  As  he  hurried  back,  his  eye 
caught  the  beautiful  turnout  of  his  father 
with  the  liveried  coachman  on  the  box,  and 
his  mother  in  the  landau  as  though  waiting 
for  him.  He  knew  that  could  not  be,  as  they 
were  not  expecting  him  before  the  next  week. 
In  his  haste,  the  natural  excitement  of  home 
coming,  and  the  narrow  escape  from  being 
held  on  the  train  by  his  mischievous  comrades 
and  "carried  by,"  he  jostled  against  a  young 
lady  who  stood  with  her  back  to  him,  while 
his  sister  with  both  arms  about  her  neck,  was 
showering  her  with  kisses. 

"Hullo,  Puss,"  he  said,  "save  some  of 
them  for  me." 

Vivian  gave  a  little  scream  of  joy,  and  cry 
ing,  "O  brother  Vincent!"  rushed  into  his 
arms,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "Let  me 

present  my  dearest  friend,  Miss ."  The 

young  lady  turned  and  looked  into  his  face. 


UP  THE  GRADE  183 

He  recognized  her  as  the  one  whom  he  sup 
posed  he  had  left  on  the  train,  and  we,  of 
course,  recognize  our  Annie  Reese. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
THE  BOATMAN  OUTWITTED 

WE  must  now  introduce  our  reader  to 
scenes  quite  the  opposite  from  those  which 
closed  our  last  chapter.  Here  the  central 
figure  is  a  young  athlete,  equally  strong, 
handsome,  manly,  but  who,  from  force  of 
circumstances,  is  using  his  strength  for  a 
different  purpose.  When  Richard  Williams 
bought  his  ticket,  he  used  only  enough  of  his 
money  to  take  him  to  a  well-known  city  on 
the  Mississippi,  barely  starting  him  in  the 
direction  of  the  Golden  Gate,  his  objective 
point.  When  he  got  off  the  train  he  had  a 
valise  in  his  hand,  which,  with  ten  dollars  in 
his  pocket,  comprised  what  in  the  commercial 
world  would  have  been  called  his  "entire 
assets" — no  bank  account  to  be  drawn  upon 
in  an  emergency,  no  remittance  to  be  ex 
pected  from  " home" — a  stranger  in  a  strange 
city.  Besides  the  possessions  already  men 
tioned,  we  might  add  in  the  inventory,  an 
encumbrance,  viz :  a  big  "  lump  in  his  throat/' 

184 


UP  THE  GRADE  185 

for  he  had  a  tender  heart,  and  was  leaving  all 
he  loved  behind  him;  and  as  resources — 
which  the  commercial  agencies  would  not 
have  noticed  more  than  as  a  possible  contin 
gent  asset — a  brave  heart,  though  tender, 
and  a  fixed  determination  to  override  all 
obstacles,  and  achieve  success  without  sacri 
ficing  his  integrity  or  bartering  his  honor. 

He  was  just  a  little  confused  by  the  din 
of  the  hack  drivers  and  hotel  runners  who 
stood  along  a  chalk  line  at  the  station,  each 
using  his  lung  power  as  though  striving  to 
drown  the  voice  of  all  others  in  calling  atten 
tion  to  the  house  he  represented  as  the  "  only 
house  in  town."  Some  of  them  at  the  risk 
of  being  "run  in"  by  the  "station  cop,"  made 
so  bold  as  to  reach  across  the  dead  line  and 
try  to  nab  his  valise,  but  he  ran  the  gauntlet 
of  these,  to  him,  unfamiliar  sights  and  sounds, 
and  following  the  direction  taken  by  the 
omnibuses,  started  in  search  of  a  hotel. 

As  he  came  out  onto  one  of  the  principal 
streets,  he  met  a  rather  nice-looking  young 
man  and  inquired  of  him  where  he  could  find 
"a  respectable,  moderate-priced  hotel  or 
boarding-house." 


186  UP  THE  GRADE 

"I  will  show  you,"  he  said.  "I  am  a 
stranger  here  myself,  but  I've  found  just  the 
place  you  want.  I  have  a  room  here,  and 
get  my  meals  at  the  restaurants  and  chop 
houses."  As  he  walked  along,  he  said  his 
name  was  Harry  Adams,  a  descendant  of  the 
great  John  Quincy  Adams,  that  his  "old 
folks"  were  pretty  well-to-do;  that  he 
"  wanted  to  see  the  world,"  and  they  thought 
he  ought  to  stay  at  home.  They,  never  hav 
ing  been  far  away  from  the  old  homestead  and 
never  out  of  their  native  state,  thought  it  was 
not  necessary  for  him  to  go. 

"So,"  he  said,  "I  just  lit  out  to  see  the 
world  on  my  own  hook." 

Richard  asked  him  how  he  "managed  to 
pay  his  way." 

"That's  easy  enough  when  one  gets  used 
to  it,"  he  said.  "When  I  first  started  out, 
I  found  it  a  little  'up  hill  work/  but  I've 
learned  a  few  things.  I'm  looking  for  work 
now.  This  is  the  worst  town  I've  struck  yet, 
but  I'll  get  out  of  it  all  right." 

Down  near  the  boat  landing  in  a  rather 
rough  quarter,  where  the  buildings  were 
whitewashed,  or  weather  beaten  and  un- 


UP  THE  GRADE  187 

painted,  where  the  rough  board  fences  were 
covered  with  rudely  painted  signs  advertising 
all  sorts  of  wares  that  river  men  and  roust 
abouts  might  need,  from  "hickory  shirts" 
to  " Black  Jack"  plug  tobacco,  they  found 
the  hotel  (?).  The  place  did  not  look  in  the 
least  inviting,  but  they  went  in,  and  the  clerk, 
a  large,  coarse-looking  man  with  a  double 
chin  and  watery  eyes,  showed  Richard  a 
room  at  fifty  cents  a  day,  saying:  "You  can 
pay  in  advance,  or  leave  your  luggage  here 
as  security." 

Richard  told  him  he  would  pay  a  day  in 
advance  and  leave  his  valise  in  his  care,  as 
he  wanted  to  "look  around  a  little."  He  did 
not  relish  the  idea  of  such  a  place,  but  said 
to  himself,  "I  have  started  out  to  rough  it, 
and  might  as  well  begin  now."  As  they  left 
the  place,  Richard  asked,  "What  kind  of 
work  are  you  looking  for?" 

"Oh,  anything  that  is  easy,"  he  answered. 
"If  you  don't  mind,  we  will  go  around  to 
gether  and  I  will  show  you  the  town." 

After  going  through  some  of  the  principal 
business  streets,  they  brought  up  at  the  river 
bank,  where  a  big  man  with  red  hair  and  a 


188  UP  THE  GRADE 

face  like  a  red  herring  sat  in  a  long,  flat- 
bottomed  rowboat,  and  he  asked  them  if 
they  "  wan  ted  to  go  over  to  the  Island/' 
saying:  "There  is  an  employment  agency 
there  where  men  are  getting  jobs  every  day. 
This  is  a  free  ferry.  Come  on,  gentlemen, 
and  see  the  beauty  spot  of  the  city." 

They  went  over  and  found  a  place,  which 
was  not  exactly  what  our  friend  was  looking 
for.  After  visiting  several  houses,  which 
they  left  behind  them  as  quickly  as  possible, 
Richard  asked  the  boatman  where  the  place 
was  where  "men  were  finding  employment 
every  day."  He  replied  laughingly,  with  an 
oath:  "At  any  one  of  these  houses.  The 
agents  of  the  city  in  blue  coats  with  brass 
buttons  take  some  one  over  every  day  and 
put  them  to  work  on  the  chain  gang.  They 
get  a  free  ride  in  the  ' Black  Maria7  and  free 
board  and  lodging  at  the  workhouse  at  the 
expense  of  the  city.  You  see,  my  young 
friend,  these  places  are  licensed,  and  the  city 
gets  big  money  from  them,  so  being  in  part 
nership  with  these  people  and  sharing  in  the 
profits,  it  is  obliged  to  take  care  of  the  guests 
after  their  money  is  gone.  A  man  without 


UP  THE  GRADE  189 

money  must  work  or  steal,  so  the  great  and 
charitable  municipality  guards  their  morals, 
puts  them  where  they  will  not  be  tempted  to 
steal,  and  on  a  diet  of  salt  pork  and  prunes 
for  thirty  or  sixty  days.  Our  mayor  is  a 
big-hearted  man,  elected  by  the  'tin  pail 
brigade.'  Used  to  be  a  river  pilot.  You  can 
see  him  or  some  of  the  city  fathers  over  here 
most  any  evening." 

"Well,"  said  Richard,  "you  may  take  us 
back  to  the  city.  I  think  we  have  seen 
enough  of  this  beauty  spot. 

The  boatman  drew  himself  up;  and  closing 
one  eye  and  placing  his  thumbs  beneath  his 
leather  suspenders,  spoke  in  a  full  brogue, 
which  had  not  been  noticeable  before: 

"Now,  me  dear  young  laddy-buck,  does 
yez  obsarve  ony thing  'green7?  The  tidy  bit 
of  a  ride  over  cost  yez  nary  a  cint,  but  it  will 
cost  yez  one  dollar,  eight  bits,  to  get  back. 
Do  yez  think  Oi'm  runnin'  a  floatin'  palace 
fur  fun?" 

"Very  well,"  said  Richard,  "take  us  over." 

They  had  reached  the  boat,  and  Adams 
had  taken  his  seat. 

"Be  the  howly  Moses!    Do  ye  think  Oi 


190  UP  THE  GRADE 

would  be  afther  takin'  ye  over  widout  ye 
forkin'  over  the  'ready  raff  an  jingle'  in 
advance?" 

Richard  slipped  the  oars  into  the  oarlocks 
and  bent  forward,  saying:  "No  pay  on  this 
side  of  the  river.  Get  in  or  you'll  get  left." 

The  boatman  scrambled  in,  nearly  capsizing 
the  boat  in  doing  so,  and  tried  to  walk  to 
Richard,  swearing  like  a  mad  man.  The 
boat  was  cutting  the  water  in  response  to 
long  and  powerful  strokes.  When  the  big 
Hibernian  gained  his  feet,  the  boat  made  a 
quick  lurch  and  he  fell,  nearly  going  oyer- 
board. 

"Look  out!"  said  Richard,  laughing  heart 
ily.  "The  catfish  will  have  you  for  supper." 

Roaring  with  rage,  he  again  attempted  to 
walk  aft,  but  the  boat  began  to  oscillate, 
from  a  peculiar  dip  of  the  oars,  making  it 
almost  impossible  to  stand  or  sit  down.  He 
began  to  sway  back  and  forth,  mingled  fear 
and  rage  setting  off  his  features  in  such  lu 
dicrous  fashion  that  Richard,  roaring  with 
laughter,  shouted,  "I  am  afraid  you  are 
getting  seasick."  Then,  steadying  the  boat, 
"You  had  better  take  a  seat,  it  is  all  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  191 

same  price.  This  'floating  palace7  is  running 
for  fun  now."  They  were  passing  near  where 
a  lumber  boat  was  putting  a  raft  of  lumber 
into  a  boom  for  repairs,  and  the  captain 
standing  on  the  bridge  was  watching  the 
performance  and  saw  the  discomfiture  of  the 
boatman.  With  a  coarse  guffaw,  he  shouted 
as  they  passed,  "Ship  ahoy!  Where  you 
fellows  puttin'  up?" 

"At  the  'Dridox,'"  answered  Adams. 

Richard's  coolness  and  daring  was  a  sur 
prise  to  Adams,  and  his  laughter  seemed  to 
touch  the  mirthful  side  of  the  boatman,  for 
the  true  Irishman  usually  enjoys  a  practical 
joke  even  when  he  is  himself  the  victim. 
Addressing  Richard,  he  said : 

"  Well,  be  dad !  You  must  be  twin  brother 
to  Shamus  O'Brien.  I'll  bet  me  hat  your 
grandmother  was  Irish.  Do  ye  kape  the  pig 
in  the  parlor?  Put  yoursilf  ashore.  Come 
now,  that's  the  foine  lad  that  you  are." 

"I  will  go  ashore  whenever  you  are  ready 
to  call  it  even,"  said  Richard. 

"  Shure,  an'  it's  aven  it  is  now,  wid  the 
drinks  on  me." 

The  boat  shot  toward  the  landing  and  soon 


192  UP  THE  GRADE 

grated  on  the  gravelly  shore.  The  Irishman's 
bottle  was  out  in  a  moment,  but  Richard 
said,  "Never  mind  the  drinks.  I  don't  use 
it  myself." 

"  I  tho't  better  of  ye  than  thot.  If  ye  don't 
drink,  ye  might  take  a  smell  of  the  cork  ony- 
way.  If  ever  ye  come  within  foive  miles  of 
me,  stay  there  over  night,  an  ye'll  be  welcome. 
Well,  thin,  good  cess  to  ye." 

They  shook  hands  good-naturedly  and 
walked  away,  Richard  saying  to  Adams : 

"They  say  a  dollar  saved  is  two  dollars 
earned." 

Adams  told  him  confidentially  that  it  had 
been  a  long  time  since  a  dollar  had  "  tickled 
his  palm,"  that  he  had  not  had  a  square  meal 
for  ten  days,  and  had  not  tasted  food  since 
the  day  before  when  he  had  part  of  a  loaf  of 
stale  bread  for  his  day's  ration.  His  manner 
was  so  frank  and  apparently  honest,  that 
Richard  believed  him  and  said,  "We  will  go 
out  and  have  a  square  meal,  if  you  will  take 
me  to  a  good  place." 

He  took  him  at  once  to  a  fine  cafe,  where 
Adams  ordered  the  dinner.  Richard  thought 
his  taste  was  so  good  in  selecting  a  place  to 


UP  THE  GRADE  193 

eat,  perhaps  their  lodging  place  was  not  so 
bad  as  it  looked.  This  opinion  was  partly 
confirmed,  when,  after  nearly  an  hour's  wait 
ing,  they  were  served  with  a  meal  that  took 
them  nearly  as  long  to  dispose  of.  The 
waiter  brought  around  the  check  for  two 
dollars  and  fifty  cents,  which  Richard  paid. 
After  walking  about  for  an  hour,  they  turned 
toward  the  "Dridox,"  but  before  reaching 
there,  Adams  again  became  confidential,  and 
in  his  smooth  way  stated  that  he  had  no 
room,  and  did  not  know  where  he  would  sleep 
that  night.  He  had  stopped  at  the  "Dridox" 
when  he  had  money,  but  he  could  not  get  a 
bed  there  without  paying  in  advance,  as  he 
had  no  baggage.  He  knew  they  would  both 
find  work  next  day,  and  he  would  return  the 
money  spent  for  his  dinner  and  lodging,  if 
Richard  cared  to  pay  for  his  bed.  Richard 
gave  him  another  half  dollar,  and  Adams  was 
delighted  to  find  that  they  had  rooms  with  a 
door  opening  between  them,  so  they  could 
leave  the  door  open  and  talk  for  awhile  before 
going  to  sleep,  which  they  did.  But  Richard 
did  not  go  to  sleep  until  he  had  written  in  his 
diary  and  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible.  Among 


194  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  notes  he  made  was  one  which  said :  "  This 
day  appears  to  have  been  thrown  away.  Ex 
penses,  three  fifty;  funds  on  hand,  six  fifty/' 
He  awoke  rather  late  and  called  Adams,  but 
received  no  answer.  When  he  dressed  he 
found  that  all  of  his  money  was  gone,  and  a 
search  of  the  adjoining  room  showed  that 
Adams  was  also  gone.  He  examined  his 
valise  and  found  that  several  necessary 
articles,  all  new,  had  also  accompanied  Mr. 
Adams.  He  went  down  to  the  office  and 
called  the  big,  puffy  clerk  one  side,  and  told 
him  of  his  loss,  and  said  he  would  have  to 
leave  his  baggage  there  until  he  found  work. 

The  man  with  moist  optics  said:  "Now, 
look  here,  mister,  that  won't  wash;  that  is 
too  old  a  yarn  to  go  down  here.  We  sized 
you  two  fellers  up  as  roadsters  when  you 
come  in  with  one  grip  between  you.  You 
can't  eat  nothin'  here  on  that  baggage:  like's 
not,  'fore  night  the  owner  will  come  'round 
and  claim  it  and  have  us  pulled  for  havin' 
stolen  property.  You  git,  or  I'll  have  a  cop 
after  ye,  see?" 

Our  young  friend  walked  out  with  his 
valise  half  empty,  not  a  cent  in  his  pocket,  and 


UP  THE  GRADE  195 

no  idea  where  his  next  meal  was  to  come  from. 
After  walking  a  short  distance  along  the 
water  front,  trying  in  vain  to  collect  his 
thoughts  and  fix  on  some  plan  of  action 
whereby  to  meet  present  needs,  and  fighting 
back  the  rising  feeling  of  homesickness,  he 
sat  down  on  a  pile  of  bridge  timber,  and 
taking  out  his  diary,  read  over  his  entries  for 
the  previous  day.  He  found  that  he  had  made 
it  quite  complete  in  detail,  giving  a  full 
account  of  meeting  Adams,  his  trip  to  the 
island  and  return.  He  felt  that  he  should 
not  be  losing  any  time;  but  being  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  he  should  begin  his  notes 
for  that  day  then,  he  wrote  a  full  list  of  his 
losses,  and,  as  near  as  he  could  remember, 
the  words  of  the  sloppy  and  suspicious  clerk, 
closing  with: 

"  10.30  A.  M.  It  is  hard  to  see  how  such  an 
experience  can  be  for  the  best,  but  I  believe 
it  will  in  some  way,  though  it  may  be  a  long 
time  before  I  will  understand  it.  I  have 
learned  the  truth  of  an  old  adage — 'The  fool 
and  his  money  are  soon  parted/" 

As  he  closed  his  book  and  put  it  away  in 
an  inside  pocket,  he  saw  a  rowboat  just  land- 


196  UP  THE  GRADE 

ing  near  where  he  was  sitting.  As  he  rose 
to  go,  he  saw  a  man  get  out  of  the  boat,  and 
after  giving  some  orders  to  the  boatman,  he 
beckoned  to  him.  Walking  down  and  meet 
ing  him,  he  recognized  the  captain  of  the 
lumber  boat  that  he  had  passed  in  coming 
from  the  island,  who  said : 

"Ain't  you  the  feller  that  was  rowin'  that 
skiff  yestidy?" 

Richard  answered  that  he  was. 

"Wa'al,  one  of  my  men  jumped  his  job 

soon  as  he  got  in,  and  went  over  to  that  d d 

island  and  got  pulled  by  the  police.  I  see 
you  got  off  better'n  he  did.  D'you  want  a 
job?" 

"What  kind  of  a  job?"  said  Richard. 

"On  the  raft,  of  course." 

"  I  am  on  my  way  to  California.  How  far 
are  you  going?"  he  asked. 

"Clean  down  to  St.  Looey — that's  right 
on  your  way.  You  kin  easy  get  up  the 
Mizoury,  and  strike  the  U.  P." 

"  I  would  like  to  go  very  well.  What  would 
be  the  work?  I  have  never  worked  on  the 
river,  but  I  think  I  can  soon  learn  it." 

"I'll  take  my  chances  on  that.     You  will 


UP  THE  GRADE  197 

have  to  do  all  kinds  of  work,  and  put  in  long 
hours.  May  be  called  out  any  time  of  the 
night,  and  sometimes  all  night  and  all  day, 
too,  for  that  matter.  I'll  give  you  two  bits 
an  hour,  and  time  and  a  half  for  every  hour 
you  work  over  ten  hours  in  any  twenty-four. 
You'll  have  good  grub  and  plenty  of  it,  but 
you'll  have  to  work.  Come,  you  better  go." 

"I  will  go  with  you,"  he  answered,  "and 
do  my  best." 

During  their  conversation  they  had  slowly 
walked  down  toward  the  river  where  the 
boat  was.  The  captain  said  to  the  boatman : 
"Take  this  man  over  to  the  boat,  and  tell  Ike 
to  set  him  to  work  after  dinner  on  full  time, 
and  to  jog  him  up  a  little,  for  he's  raw.  Tell 
him  to  send  him  over  after  me  at  five  o'clock." 

"The  boat,"  which  was  to  be  Richard's 
home  for  several  weeks,  had  painted  in  black 
letters  along  its  white  side,  "Gideon  Grouse," 
which  they  told  him  was  also  the  name  of 
its  owner  and  captain. 

The  notes  written  in  his  diary  that  night 
made  very  interesting  reading. 

The  trip  down  was  a  long  and  tedious  one. 
Richard  was  looking  for  work  and  he  certainly 


198  UP  THE  GRADE 

found  it.  Captain  Grouse  had  taken  in  tow 
so  large  a  fleet  of  green  lumber,  that  his  boat 
could  do  little  more  than  hold  it  in  the  cur 
rent,  and  therefore  made  little  headway 
beyond  the  natural  flow  of  the  stream.  To 
make  matters  worse,  they  had  much  stormy 
weather,  and  all  hands  were  kept  busy  in 
their  efforts  to  prevent  accidents  and  keep 
the  "water-logged"  rafts  afloat.  They  had 
all  the  "overtime"  they  cared  for.  There 
were  times  when  a  less  stout  heart  would  have 
become  discouraged,  but  he  came  on  duty  at 
every  call.  Some  of  the  crew  dropped  out 
from  overwork  and  long  hours,  but  they  were 
usually  the  ones  who  went  ashore  at  every 
opportunity,  while  those  of  steady  habits, 
who  used  all  spare  time  for  rest,  reached  the 
end  of  the  trip  in  good  health,  and  had  a  nice 
little  sum  of  money  when  the  lumber  was 
safely  landed  and  they  were  paid  off. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  FIVE  HORSEMEN 

THE  summer  has  gone,  and  all  nature  is 
clothed  in  the  rich  livery  of  autumn.  The 
nights  are  getting  frosty.  The  men  on  the 
thinly  scattered  farms  along  the  Missouri — 
now  that  densely  populated  section  famous 
for  corn  and  wheat  and  cattle — are  busy 
husking  corn  and  preparing  for  the  coming 
winter.  A  few  miles  inland,  in  that  section 
tributary  to  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad,  and 
not  far  from  where  it  struck  the  "Big  Muddy," 
there  was  a  large  farm,  which  stretched  away 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  see  over  a  level  and 
almost  unbroken  tract  of  prairie  land.  The 
headquarters  of  this  farm,  where  the  main 
buildings  and  cattle  sheds  were  located,  was 
in  a  grove  of  large  cottonwood  trees,  which 
lined  the  bank  of  a  deep,  sluggish  stream. 
The  sun,  which  had  been  shut  in  by  cold, 
black  clouds  all  day,  was  struggling  to  break 
through  the  veil  which  enshrouded  it,  and 

199 


200  UP  THE  GRADE 

send  a  last  departing  ray  across  the  cheerless 
windswept  prairie.  The  wind  from  the 
northwest  came  in  great  gusts,  scattering 
the  few  yellow  leaves  that  still  remained  on 
the  great  cottonwoods  and  swayed  their  tall 
branches  back  and  forth.  The  farm  hands 
were  hurrying  about  the  premises,  with  "ear 
laps"  pulled  down,  slapping  their  wool 
mittens  together,  while  their  breath  rose  like 
steam  above  their  heads  and  froze  in  spark 
ling  crystals  on  beard  and  brow.  The  air 
began  to  thicken  with  sleet  and  snow  wrhich, 
falling  into  circling  eddies,  dropped  to  earth 
in  drift-forming  nuclei.  One  of  the  chore- 
men,  with  pitchfork  in  hand,  passing  another 
with  a  basket  of  corn  on  his  shoulder,  shouted : 
"The  old  woman  up  north  is  pickin'  her 
geese,  BUI." 

"You  bet!"  came  the  answer  through  the 
roar  of  the  wind.  "  It's  goin'  to  be  a  blizzard." 

In  the  main  building  was  a  spacious  room, 
which  obviously  served  the  triple  purpose  of 
dining,  sleeping  and  lounging  room  for  the 
men;  for  along  one  end  were  rows  of  bunks 
built  against  the  wall,  one  above  the  other, 
from  some  of  which  protruded  the  overhang- 


UP  THE  GRADE  201 

ing  corner  of  gray  blankets,  and  from  others, 
the  legs  of  a  pair  of  blue  overalls  or  the  sleeve 
of  a  blouse;  while  along  the  wall  underneath 
hung  bridles,  spurs,  hightop  boots,  etc.,  etc. 
At  the  opposite  end  was  a  mammoth  open 
fireplace,  piled  with  logs,  which  were  snapping 
and  crackling,  sending  upward  a  shower  of 
sparks  with  an  occasional  one  leaping  like  a 
rocket  out  upon  the  broad  limestone  hearth, 
to  smoke  and  smoulder  away. 

Near  the  fireplace  were  numerous  tables, 
upon  which  the  "hog  and  hominy "  were 
served  for  the  hungry  men;  afterwards 
cleared  off  and  used  for  cards  and  other  games 
with  which  they  amused  themselves  in  a  cloud 
of  tobacco  smoke.  At  one  side  of  the  fire 
place  was  a  door,  opening  into  the  kitchen 
or  "cook  room,"  which  upon  this  evening 
was  open,  and  through  which  came  the  savory 
odor  of  roast  beef,  mingled  with  that  of  boiled 
potatoes,  turnips,  hulled  corn,  frying  onions 
and  pumpkin  pies. 

At  a  desk  on  the  opposite  side  sat  Mr. 
Charles  Wadsworth,  a  New  York  capitalist 
and  owner  of  the  farm,  who  chanced  to  be  on 
one  of  his  periodical  visits,  and  Jack  Stanley, 


202  UP  THE  GRADE 

his  head  foreman,  talking  over  the  business 
and  checking  the  accounts.  The  men  were 
gathering  in  from  their  work,  each  taking  his 
turn  at  a  tin  wash  basin  which  sat  on  a  bench 
in  the  corner  of  the  kitchen — begrimed  with 
use — and  near  it  a  bar  of  yellow  soap  that 
curdled  the  hard  water  and  made  washing 
anything  but  pleasant;  but  they  kept  pa 
tiently  at  it,  some  of  the  more  fastidious  ones 
slyly  helping  themselves  to  hot  water  from 
the  range  when  the  cook's  back  was  turned. 
When  they  came  from  their  respective  bunks, 
where  they  exchanged  their  working  clothes 
for  those  which  were  more  cleanly  and  com 
fortable,  they  presented  a  very  respectable 
appearance,  and  were,  upon  the  whole,  a 
more  interesting  and  intelligent  lot  of  men 
than  one  not  acquainted  with  "cow  men" 
would  expect  to  meet  under  such  circum 
stances.  Some  of  the  men  were  new-comers, 
and  these  were  called  up  and  introduced  to 
Mr.  Wadsworth  by  the  foreman.  He  shook 
hands  and  chatted  with  them  in  a  way  that 
at  once  set  them  at  ease  and  made  them  eager 
to  outdo  each  other  in  protecting  his  interests. 
Mr.  Wadsworth  knew  how  to  use  diplomacy 


UP  THE  GRADE  203 

in  Wall  Street,  but  let  it  be  said  to  his  credit 
that  his  actions  here  were  not  prompted  by 
mercenary  motives;  and  to  the  credit  of  the 
men  that  they  possessed  the  natural  acumen 
that  would  have  pierced  the  wall  of  deceit, 
had  such  existed,  and  the  effect  would  have 
been  as  detrimental  to  his  interests  as  their 
dislike  for  him  would  have  been  bitter  and 
unrelenting.  Whatever  may  be  said  of  the 
"  cow  man,"  he  is  sagacious,  a  practical  meta 
physician,  knows  a  square  deal  and  prizes  it; 
never  forgets  a  genuine  act  of  kindness,  and 
never  shrinks  from  his  conception  of  duty. 
It  was  these  inherent  qualities  which  made 
him  a  legislator,  whose  enforcement  of  his 
self-made  laws  on  the  range  made  him  a  more 
potent  factor  in  regulating  the  outrages  of 
the  early  days,  than  the  acts  of  legislatures, 
which  were  almost  impossible  of  enforcement. 
The  hand  that  would  divide  the  last  hard 
tack  with  a  friend  would  coolly  throw  his 
"  rope  "  around  the  neck  of  a  cattle  thief,  and 
leave  the  lifeless  body  dangling  in  mid-air, 
even  if  the  thief  proved  to  be  the  friend  of 
former  days. 
Mr.  Wadsworth  was  a  good  man,  naturally 


204  UP  THE   GRADE 

kind-hearted  and  honest.  He  enjoyed  con 
tact  with  the  rough,  sturdy  men  of  the  west, 
and  was  always  a  welcome  visitor.  He  re 
membered  the  names  of  many  of  those  he 
met  in  his  brief  visits  and  often  related  in  the 
home  circle  the  stories  he  heard  them  tell, 
and  described  their  feats  of  horsemanship. 
He  was  in  every  sense  the  true  type  of  the 
wealthy  gentleman  from  the  east,  justly 
respected  and  loved  at  home  and  abroad. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
Two  "CATTLE  KINGS"  MEET 

WHILE  the  scenes  described  in  our  last 
chapter  were  being  enacted,  and  the  cook 
was  preparing  to  set  the  evening  meal  before 
the  hungry  men,  five  horsemen  rode  up  to  the 
door,  and  one  of  them  shouted : 

"Is  this  the  Wadsworth  ranch ?" 

Jack  Stanley,  the  foreman,  responded  to 
the  call  quickly,  saying:  "That's  what  it  is. 
Git  off  your  bosses  and  come  in.  Yer  jest 
in  time  for  supper.7'  Then  looking  toward 
the  men  and  seeing  half  a  dozen  of  them 
hurrying  for  their  caps,  as  though  each  one 
was  desirous  of  being  first  to  take  care  of  the 
horses,  said:  "There's  only  five  of  'em,  boys; 
put  'em  in  the  barn  with  the  drivin'  horses." 

The  strangers  entered,  apparently  chilled 
to  the  marrow  by  their  ride  through  the  storm. 

The  leader  of  the  party,  who  was  first  to 
make  his  appearance,  was  a  man  about  fifty 
years  of  age,  with  a  round,  full  face,  covered 

205 


206  UP  THE  GRADE 

with  a  stubby  growth  of  brown  beard,  mottled 
with  gray.  He  had  the  appearance  of  a  man 
of  affairs,  who  was  accustomed  to  roughing 
it.  He  was  one  of  those  men  who  would 
awaken  interest  in  a  stranger  on  sight,  and 
set  him  guessing  as  to  what  sort  of  a  man  he 
would  prove  to  be  on  further  acquaintance. 
Was  he  the  leader  of  a  gang  of  train  robbers, 
or  a  diamond  in  the  rough?  He  had  scarcely 
gotten  through  the  door,  when  he  broke  out 
in  a  loud  voice  with : 

"What  kind  of  a  wolfish  climate  you  got, 
anyway?  Cold  'miff  to  freeze  the  hair  off  a 
buffalo  robe,  and  the  wind  blowing  hard 
enough  to  take  the  hem  out  of  a  man's  shirt. 
Are  you  the  foreman  of  this  outfit?"  he  asked 
Stanley. 

"I  am  supposed  to  be,"  he  answered,  "and 
this  is  Mr.  Wadsworth,  the  proprietor." 

He  crossed  the  room  with  a  quick,  bounding 
step,  reaching  Mr.  Wadsworth  before  that 
gentleman  had  hardly  time  to  rise,  saying : 

"So  this  is  Wadsworth  himself?"  Then, 
while  shaking  hands  in  a  muscular  manner, 
"My  name  is  Cloverdale — John  Cloverdale." 

"Where  are  you  from,  Mr.  Cloverdale?" 


UP  THE  GRADE  207 

asked  Mr.  Wadsworth,  smiling  at  his  original 
and  characteristically  blunt  manner  and  ex 
plosive  criticism  of  the  climate. 

"From  California,"  he  answered.  "I  am 
runnin'  a  few  cattle  over  there,  and  got  sick 
of  them  peaked,  punkin-seed  long  horns 
that's  bin  there  since  the  old  days  of  the 
Spanish  regime.  There  ain't  no  more  meat 
on  them  than  a  coyote"  (which  he  pronounced 
"ky-o-ty").  "I  am  after  something  better. 
Lack  about  eight  hundred.  Heard  I  could 
get  'em  offn  this  ranch.  Come  over  to  see, 
and  run  into  this  skin-peelin'  blizzard." 

"You  may  beat  us  in  climate,  but  from 
what  you  say,  I  guess  we  are  a  little  ahead  of 
you  in  beef  cattle,"  said  Mr.  Wadsworth. 
"About  how  many  are  you  shipping?" 

"About  two  thousand  this  time,  just  to 
give  us  a  little  start,"  answered  the  Calif ornian. 

"How  are  you  fixed,  Jack?"  asked  Mr. 
Wadsworth  of  his  foreman.  "Can  we  help 
him  out?" 

"We've  got  the  stock,  and  he  hain't  found 
no  better  this  side  the  Muddy,"  said  Stanley 
with  pardonable  pride,  "but  he'll  have  to  pay 
five'n  a  half  as  they  run,  or  six'n  pick  'em." 


208  UP  THE  GRADE 

Mr.  Wadsworth  saw  in  the  way  his  visitor 
plunged  into  business  that  he  was  one  who 
attended  to  business  first  and  bodily  comfort 
afterwards.  He  would  have  preferred  to  see 
him  get  warm  and  have  his  supper  first;  but 
seeing  by  his  persistence  that  this  man  would 
not  eat  or  sleep  until  he  had  his  mind  at  rest, 
he  assumed  the  same  business  air,  and  said: 

"How  does  that  strike  you,  Mr.  Clover- 
dale?" 

"If  they  are  what  your  foreman  says,  it's 
a  deal/7  and  he  extended  his  hand  to  close 
the  bargain,  and  Mr.  Wadsworth  took  it 
smilingly.  Two  cattle  kings  had  met,  each 
representing  a  true  type  of  the  section  which 
produced  him.  Both  were  true  Americans, 
both  successful,  wealthy — both  largely  identi 
fied  in  banking  and  commercial  interests,  and, 
as  a  side  issue,  stock-raising. 

When  the  deal  was  closed,  the  "business 
air"  of  Mr.  Cloverdale  instantly  vanished. 
He  at  once  became  as  easy  and  sociable  as 
though  he  had  never  known  a  business  care. 
Since  coming  into  the  house,  he  had  paid  no 
attention  to  the  men  who  accompanied  him, 
being  lost  to  all  else  but  the  business  which 


UP  THE  GRADE  209 

brought  him  there.  That  disposed  of,  he 
glanced  about  the  room  and  singled  out  each 
one  as  they  were  joining  in  the  conversation 
with  the  men  of  the  "Wadsworth  outfit." 
Of  the  four  men,  three  were  from  the  stock 
yards,  where  he  had  engaged  them  to  pick  up 
his  cattle. 

The  other  was  a  young  man  who  had  worked 
his  way  down  the  Mississippi  and  up  the 
Missouri,  and  had  been  employed  by  Mr. 
Cloverdale  to  take  charge  of  one  of  his  stock 
trains  through  to  the  coast. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

BOB'S  STORY 

SUPPER  at  the  Wadsworth  camp  was  some 
what  delayed  by  the  advent  of  the  Calif ornian; 
but  it  was  soon  brought  on,  and  all  hands  were 
seated  at  the  oilcloth-covered  tables,  which 
were  laid  with  tin  cups  and  plates.  Never 
was  banquet — laid  under  dazzling  chande 
liers,  with  shining  plate  and  snowy  linen — 
sat  down  to  with  such  an  air  of  perfect  free 
dom  or  enjoyed  with  a  keener  relish,  and,  we 
might  truthfully  add,  that  was  presided  over 
by  such  men  as  the  two  who  sat  together — 
peers  in  the  business  world,  but  as  opposite 
and  widely  separated  in  personality  as  the 
two  oceans  from  whence  they  came.  As 
they  finished  eating,  the  dishes  were  removed 
and  they  sat  about  the  tables,  some  smoking 
and  all  talking  glibly.  One  of  the  number 
would  launch  out  on  his  favorite  topic,  usually 
connected  with  the  particular  branch  of  work 
in  which  he  was  employed.  One  of  the  men 

210 


UP  THE  GRADE  211 

shouted  across  the  table  to  a  rather  quiet- 
looking,  middle-aged  man,  whose  lameness 
was  quite  noticeable,  saying: 

"Bob,  tell  these  California  folks  how  you 
got  that  game  leg." 

Bob  straightened  up  and  in  a  slow,  drawl 
ing  voice,  without  the  least  change  in  coun 
tenance  from  beginning  to  end,  said : 

"  I  was  living  in  North  Dakota  that  winter. 
It  was  about  as  cold  as  it  ever  gets  up  there; 
the  weather  here  tonight  is  like  a  summer 
even'nin'  compared  to  it.  I  got  my  laig 
broke  at  the  knee  from  a  horse  I  was  breakin' 
in  and  the  doctor  had  it  in  a  cast,  and  I  had 
laid  in  one  position  until  I  got  purty  nerv'us, 
and  when  it  got  to  knittin'  it  was  about  all 
I  could  do  to  stay  with  it.  The  day  before 
I  got  hurt  I  killed  a  hog  and  cut  it  all  up 
ready  for  the  saltin'  down  and  piled  it  up  in 
the  woodshed.  I  was  worried  about  that 
meat  all  the  time  I  was  laid  up.  One  night 
when  I  was  the  worst,  the  doctor  came  to  see 
me.  I  axed  him  to  give  me  some  kind  of  a 
sleepin'  powder,  or  he  wouldn't  find  me  there 
in  the  mornin'.  He  called  my  wife  to  one 
side ;  and,  as  I  found  out  afterwards,  told  her 


212  UP  THE  GRADE 

he  was  goin'  to  leave  me  some  morphine 
powders,  but  not  to  give  'em  to  me  unless  I 
got  so  I  couldn't  stand  it.  He  said  it  might 
not  work  very  good — I  was  so  nerv'us,  it 
might  make  me  'loony ' :  an'  if  it  did,  to  give 
me  some  strong  coffee — quick.  I  got  purty 
boystruss  'long  in  the  night  and  baiged  for 
somethin'  to  put  me  to  sleep,  and  got  to 
swearin'  cause  the  doctor  didn't  leave  me  no 
sleepin'  powders.  My  poor  wife  done  every 
thing  she  could  think  of;  but  I  was  so  un 
strung,  I  swore  and  raved  till  she  got  to 
cryin'.  I  never  had  done  so  afore,  and  I 
hain't  never  since.  The  more  she  cried,  the 
worse  I  got,  and  she  finally  said : 

"'The  doctor  did  leave  something  but  told 
me  not  to  give  it  to  you  unless  it  was  neces 
sary/  That  made  me  madder'n  a  hidrifogy 
skunk,  and  I  said  '  Geewhillikins !'  I  bellered 
it  right  out,  I  did.  'It's  be'n  necessary  for 
mvre'n  an  hour  I'  She  went  out  and  got  the 
medicine  and  I  took  it,  and  begun  to  git  easy 
rite  away.  She  stood  and  watched  me  quite 
a  while,  lookin'  scairt  like,  and  putty  soon 
she  went  and  laid  down  on  the  lounge,  and  in 
a  minit  or  two  was  snorin'.  She  had  be'n  up 


UP  THE   GRADE  213 

with  me  so  much,  she  was  about  used  up 
herself.  I  just  turned  my  head  over  to  go 
to  sleep  and  I  happened  to  look  out  of  the 
window.  There  was  a  little  spot  that  she 
had  scraped  the  frost  off  so  I  could  see  out. 
It  was  as  lite  as  day  out.  The  ground  was 
white  with  snow  and  a  full  moon  shining  and 
I  seen  the  woodshed  door  was  open,  and  a 
houn'  dog  comin'  out  with  a  big  piece  of  pork 
in  his  mouth.  One  of  my  neighbors,  named 
Godfrey,  had  a  pack  of  'em.  I  hollered  as 
loud  as  I  could — '  Godfrey's  houn's  is  stealin' 
the  meat !'  She  jumped  up  quicker'n  lightnin', 
and  said — kinder  soothin'  like — '  Never  mind, 
Bob,  there  ain't  no  dogs — only  jest  me'n  you 
here,  never  mind,  Bobby,  dear!'  Jest  then 
I  seen  'nother  houn'  comin'  out  with  a  big 
ham,  'n  I  hollered  louder'n  ever — '  Godfrey's 
houn's  is  carry 'n'  off  the  meat!'  Then  she 
begin  to  rant  round  and  jump  up,  it  seemed 
to  me,  three  feet  from  the  floor.  Her  hair 
came  down  and  she  begun  to  twist  her  apron 
with  both  hands  and  holler,  'Oh,  Lord!!  Oh, 
Lord !  He's  gone  crazy/  I  kep'  on  hollerin' — 
'  Godfrey's  houn's — Godfrey's  houn's ! '  All 
to  once  she  thought  of  the  coffee,  and  run  fer 


214  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  kitchen  and  I  heard  the  stove  covers 
rattlin'.  I  couldn't  stand  it  no  longer,  so  I 
jest  got  up  and  hopped  out  and  shet  the 
woodshed  door.  She  heard  me  and  run  out  jest 
in  time  to  see  the  houn's  runnin'  off,  and  help 
me  back.  The  doctor  said  I  got  my  'potello' 
onknit,  an  that's  how  I  got  a  game  laig." 

When  he  finished,  the  house  was  in  a  roar 
of  laughter,  and  none  enjoyed  the  story,  so 
drolly  and  seriously  told,  more  than  the  two 
cattle  kings.  When  the  house  had  quieted 
down,  Bob  added,  with  an  earnestness  not 
shown  before:  "You  onderstand  my  wife 
wa'n't  a  bit  to  blame.  I  ruther  a'  lost  both 
laigs,  than  seen  her  take  on  the  way  she  did. 
I  hain't  never  swore  afore  her  since  that  day, 
an'  I  don't  'low  to  ever  again.  I  allers  try 
not  to  limp  no  more'n  I  can  help,  when  I'm 
'round  her.  That  doctor  oughter  knowed 
enuff  to  not  skeer  her  to  death.  That's  all 
the  sense  some  ov  'em's  got,  anyway." 

There  was  one  of  the  Wadsworth  men  that 
the  others  seemed  to  delight  in  teasing.  He 
was  fully  six  feet,  very  slim  and  nearly  all 
legs.  They  called  him  "Bony."  He  did 
a  great  deal  of  bragging  about  driving  horses, 


UP  THE  GRADE  215 

always  ending  by  saying,  "I've  druv  ever 
sence  I  was  eight  year  old."  Several  sarcastic 
remarks  were  aimed  at  him  during  the  evening, 
but  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that  while  they 
were  spoiling  to  "poke  him  up"  at  every 
opportunity,  they  were  also  a  little  timid 
about  doing  it,  as  he  was  inclined  to  be 
quarrelsome  and  never  enjoyed  a  joke  when 
it  was  on  himself.  Finally  one  of  the  men, — 
having  so  "good  a  one"  on  him  that  he  had 
to  tell  it  even  at  the  risk  of  rousing  his  wrath, 
said: 

"Boys,  you  ought  to  have  seen  'Bony' 
drive  the  big  sorrel  mare  this  afternoon.  He 
had  the  high  cart,  hauling  stalks.  The  old 
mare  was  hitched  pretty  far  ahead  and  he  was 
standin'  up  on  the  load.  The  cart  give  a 
jerk  and  he  slipped  off  and  went,  feet  first, 
right  down  ahead  of  the  cross  bar  next  to 
the  old  mare's  heels,  and  took  a  lot  of  stalks 
with  him  and  lost  the  lines.  It  scart  the  old 
mare  so,  she  started  off  on  a  trot  for  the  barn. 
He  caught  both  arms  back  of  the  cross  bar, 
and  yelled,  'Whoa/  but  she  didn't  'whoa.' 
The  cart  is  so  high — the  way  he  had  hold  of 
it  with  his  arms  behind  him,  he  could  just 


216  UP  THE  GRADE 

touch  his  toes  to  the  ground,  and  so  he  had 
to  keep  step  with  her  hind  legs,  and  away 
they  went  to  the  barn,  the  corn  stalks  flyin', 
and  them  spindle  shanks  of  his'n  was  all  of 
him  that  showed,  and  they  was  keepin'  step, 
and  he  yellin',  and  the  old  sorrel  trottin' 
faster'n  faster  all  the  time.  It  was  better'n 
Barnum's  show — clown,  side  show  'n'  all. 
I  just  laid  down  and  laughed.  When  I  heard 
him  yellin'  in  the  barn,  I  run  in,  an'  there 
was  the  old  mare  standin'  in  her  stall,  he 
tryin'  to  get  out,  but  still  hangin'  on  with 
both  arms,  every  little  while  touchin'  her 
gamble  j'ints  with  his  knees,  and  she  humpin' 
like  she's  goin'  to  kick.  I  was  laughin'  so, 
I  couldn't  do  nothin'  for  a  while.  I  believe 
I'd  'a'  laughed,  if  she  had  kicked  the  stuffin' 
out  of  him,  but  he  begged  so,  I  unhooked  her 
and  backed  him  and  the  cart  away  from  her, 
and  got  him  out." 

The  shout  that  went  up  nearly  raised  the 
rafters,  and  did  raise  his  anger.  Jumping  up 
and  pulling  off  his  coat,  he  swore  he  could 
whip  the  man  that  told  that  yarn  and  anyone 
that  laughed  at  it.  "I've  druv  ever  sence 
I  was  eight  year  old,  and" — 


UP  THE  GRADE  217 

Mr.  Cloverdale  broke  in  with — "Say,  you 
long  fellow,  did  you  say  you  had  drove  since 
you  was  eight  years  old?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  answered,  "and  I'll 
drive  against  any  man  you  will  bring,  horses, 
mules,  or  a  ox  team." 

"I  have  a  Mexican  boy  that's  got  you 
' skinned  a  mile/"  said  he.  "He  drives  a 
ten-mule  team  with  a  jerk  line,  and  he  began 
to  drive  before  he  could  walk — just  as  soon 
as  he  could  sit  up.  He'd  tie  a  string  to  his 
big  toe,  on  the  nigh  side,  and  play  it  was  a  jerk 
line,  and  drive  himself  all  around  the  house." 

For  once  the  fight  was  taken  out  of  Bony, 
and  he  joined  with  the  others  and  laughed 
at  his  own  expense. 

Our  Richard  was  taking  his  first  lesson 
in  a,  to  him,  new  line  of  work.  When  they 
called  upon  him  for  a  story,  he  told  them  he 
had  just  taken  a  trip  down  the  Mississippi; 
that  possibly  some  of  the  incidents  of  the 
trip  might  interest  them.  He  related  several 
which  brought  down  the  house,  and  sang 
some  negro  melodies  that  he  had  picked  up, 
first  hand.  It  was  done  in  such  a  free  and 
easy  style  that  he  captured  the  house. 


218  UP  THE  GRADE 

While  he  was  entertaining  them,  Mr.  Clover- 
dale  said  to  Mr.  Wadsworth  in  an  undertone : 

"That's  a  smart  young  fellow.  I  just  got 
hold  of  him.  He's  a  student  going  to  work 
his  way  through  school." 

"What  is  his  name?"  asked  Mr.  Wadsworth. 

"I  don't  just  remember — it's  Richard 
something.  I  never  pay  much  attention  to 


names." 


"I  never  forget  a  face  or  a  name  when  I 
once  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  Wadsworth,  but  he 
did  not  hear  Richard's  kfull  name,  as  we  will 
see  later. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
JOHN  CLOVERDALE 

MR.  CLOVERDALE  had  his  cattle  bought  and 
gathered  at  the  stock  yards,  ready  to  load. 
At  that  time  shipping  so  long  a  distance  was 
something  of  an  experiment.  The  Union 
Pacific  had  hardly  gotten  into  complete 
running  order.  Railroad  and  stockmen  were 
watching  the  result  with  much  interest.  Mr. 
Cloverdale  had  chosen  that  season  of  the 
year  for  two  reasons :  first,  the  cattle  were  in 
good  condition  and  grass  fed;  second,  they 
would  reach  the  warm  valleys  of  California 
just  as  the  green  feed  was  springing  up.  The 
equipment  of  the  road  was  new;  and  the  new 
cars  loaded  with  fine,  young,  high  grade  cattle 
made,  for  those  days,  quite  an  imposing  sight, 
as  they  pulled  out  of  the  freight  yards  for 
the  west.  There  was  a  man  in  charge  of 
each  train,  with  several  men  under  him,  to 
watch  the  cattle  at  each  stop  and  look  after 
the  unloading  and  feeding  at  intervals  en 

219 


220  UP  THE  GRADE 

route,  Mr.  Cloverdale  going  ahead  by  passenger 
trains  and  stopping  off  occasionally  at  some 
station  where  they  passed  through  during 
the  day  time,  thus  keeping  personal  oversight. 
Richard  was  in  charge  of  the  first  train  to 
leave  the  stock  yards.  As  they  got  well 
under  way,  the  long  intervals  between  feed 
and  water  was  telling  upon  the  stock.  Late 
one  afternoon,  as  the  train  pulled  into  a 
station,  he  hurried  forward  to  the  office, 
hoping  to  get  a  telegram  from  Mr.  Cloverdale, 
giving  instructions  as  to  where  to  stop,  as 
some  of  his  load  were  suffering  for  rest.  As 
he  was  nearing  the  office,  he  saw  a  large  man 
come  out  of  the  depot,  whom  he  at  once 
recognized  as  "Bill"  Jackson.  Richard 
noticed  him  stop  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  write 
a  word  or  punctuate  a  telegram,  which  he 
laid  up  beside  the  building.  Then,  as  Richard 
came  up,  he  asked  if  his  name  was  Williams, 
and  handed  him  a  telegram  which  read  as 
follows : 

"WILLIAMS, 
Stock  Train,  West, 

Don't  feed  at  Cheyenne. 

CLOVEKDALE." 


UP  THE  GRADE  221 

Richard  was  puzzled  at  the  telegram. 
Cheyenne  was  the  place  where  he  understood 
he  was  to  unload  and  feed.  There  were  no 
instructions  as  to  where  to  stop  and  he  did 
not  know  where  to  reach  Mr.  Cloverdale. 
To  pass  that  point  any  great  distance  would 
mean  the  loss  of  cattle  on  his  train,  and  very 
likely  on  the  one  following.  He  waited  until 
he  had  passed  the  last  station  before  reaching 
Cheyenne,  where  he  knew  there  was  plenty 
of  feed  and  water,  hoping  to  receive  further 
instructions;  but  no  telegram  came,  and  he 
decided  to  disobey  orders,  and  stop  and  take 
care  of  his  cattle.  So  they  were  all  unloaded 
there,  and  he  held  them  until  they  were  all  in 
fit  condition  for  reloading,  and  still  no  message 
from  Mr.  Cloverdale. 

When  they  reached  Ogden,  he  found  Mr. 
Cloverdale  waiting  for  him,  and  not  knowing 
what  he  would  say,  he  opened  the  subject  at 
once,  saying: 

"I  disobeyed  orders  and  unloaded  at 
Cheyenne.  Several  of  my  cattle  were  down 
and  all  were  suffering  badly.  The  boys  in 
the  rear  section  lost  several.  They  are  all 
in  good  shape  now." 


222  UP  THE  GRADE 

Mr.  Cloverdale  looked  surprised.  "Dis 
obeyed  whose  orders,"  he  asked. 

Richard  handed  him  the  telegram,  which  he 
read  and  flew  into  a  violent  rage. 

"  There  was  no  '  don't '  in  my  message,"  he 
said,  and  started  for  the  office  of  the  division 
superintendent,  boiling  with  rage.  Entering 
the  office  he  called  for  the  superintendent, 
and  handed  him  the  message,  saying: 

"Here's  a  ' bulled'  message.  If  my  man 
had  not  had  more  sense  than  your  operator 
that  gave  him  the  message,  I  would  have  lost 
half  my  cattle.  The  Superintendent  took 
the  message  and  wired  the  accused  operator 
at  once : 

"Opr  C.  D. 

Repeat  message  to  Williams  signed  Cloverdale. 

J.  F.  L.,  Supt." 

The  answer  came  back  promptly: 

"Williams  stock  train  west. 
Feed  at  Cheyenne. 

CLOVERDALE." 

The  Superintendent,  who  was  greatly  re 
lieved  to  find  that  no  error  could  be  traced 
to  his  department,  handed  the  message  over 
to  Mr.  Cloverdale,  saying  exultingly : 


UP  THE  GRADE  223 

"My  man  had  sense  enough  to  do  the  busi 
ness  correctly.  I'm  not  so  sure  about  yours. 
If  you  will  examine  that  message  carefully, 
you  will  see  that  the  word  ' don't'  was  not 
written  in  the  same  hand  or  at  the  same  time 
as  the  rest  of  the  message.  That  word  was 
written  on  something  rough,  probably  by 
your  man  to  make  up  a  good  story  and  'get 
solid'  with  his  boss.  You  had  better  look 
after  that  ' Nibs'  and  see  if  he  ain't  working 
you."  i 

Mr.  Cloverdale  was  furious.  When  angry 
he  was  hotheaded  and  unreasonable.  When 
he  found  Richard  at  the  yards  looking  after 
the  feeding,  he  began  to  upbraid  him,  using 
the  most  insulting  and  abusive  language,  and 
accused  him  of  "doctoring"  the  message  to 
gain  credit  for  himself,  ending  with : 

"You  get  back  to  the  rear  section.  I'll 
have  a  man  on  ahead  that  won't  lie." 

Richard's  first  impulse  was  to  knock  him 
down,  but  steadying  himself,  he  asked  for  an 
explanation,  and  was  shown  the  message  as 
repeated. 

In  a  moment  all  was  clear  to  Richard. 
Jackson  had  waited  until  he  had  identified 


224  UP  THE   GRADE 

him,  and  then  added  the  word.  In  fact, 
Richard  had  seen  him  do  it,  but  he  saw  at 
once  how  futile  any  effort  to  place  the  blame 
where  it  belonged  would  be;  and  since  to 
attempt  to  do  so  would  necessitate  revealing 
their  past  acquaintance  and  Jackson's  motive, 
he  abandoned  that  idea.  He  was  smarting 
under  the  burning  insult  of  Mr.  Cloverdale 
and  felt  that  he  would  prefer  to  walk  to  Cali 
fornia,  if  need  be,  rather  than  remain  another 
minute  in  his  employ.  He  wisely  took  time  to 
think  before  speaking,  and  then  followed  the 
dictates  of  his  judgment  rather  than  his  natural 
inclination.  Had  he  known  the  man  better, 
he  would  not  have  been  surprised  at  this 
violent  and  explosive  outburst.  Looking  him 
calmly  in  the  eye  Richard  said :  "  Mr.  Clover- 
dale,  I  am  not  a  liar.  That  telegram  was 
given  to  me  exactly  as  you  see  it.  I  promised 
to  go  through  with  you  and  shall  serve  you 
to  the  best  of  my  ability.  It  is  for  you  to 
say  in  what  capacity  it  shall  be."  He  went 
on  with  his  work,  giving  directions  to  the 
men.  Mr.  Cloverdale  stood  watching  him, 
wonder-eyed.  One  of  the  men  was  dragging 
a  young  calf,  that  had  been  born  in  transit, 


UP  THE  GRADE  225 

across  the  yard  in  a  brutal  manner.  Richard 
hurried  to  him,  placed  his  hand  on  his  shoulder, 
said  something  to  him,  and  the  man  slunk 
away  sullenly.  Richard  took  the  calf  up  in 
his  arms  tenderly  and  carried  it  to  another 
yard  followed  by  the  mother;  and  in  like 
manner  went  about  seeing  that  the  weaker 
ones  had  extra  feed  and  care. 

When  the  cattle  were  again  loaded  and  the 
trains  were  being  made  up,  Richard  got  his 
valise  and  started  for  the  caboose  of  the  rear 
section,  but  Mr.  Cloverdale  called  him  back 
and  said : 

"  I  spoke  too  harshly  to  you  this  morning. 
I  believe  what  you  say  about  the  telegram!" 
(Handing  him  a  railroad  map.)  "I  have 
marked  the  stations  where  you  will  find  stock 
yards,  feed  and  water.  The  worst  part  of 
the  road  is  ahead.  It  will  be  hot  and  dusty 
crossing  the  desert.  Use  your  own  judgment. 
Stop  as  often  and  as  long  as  you  think  best. 
I  am  going  home  on  this  train,"  nodding 
towards  the  coast  express  about  to  leave. 
"The  men  understand  that  you  will  be  in 
charge  from  here.  You  will  unload  at  Sacra 
mento.  We  drive  from  there.  I  will  meet 


226  UP  THE  GRADE 

you  there.  Good-bye.  Take  care  of  your 
self."  He  sprang  onto  the  departing  train 
and  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
THE  RAINBOW  IN  THE  SIERRAS 

MR.  CLOVERDALE  was  a  self-made  man 
upon  whom  Dame  Fortune  had  smiled.  His 
father  was  a  sea  captain,  who  sailed  to  and 
from  San  Francisco  Harbor.  His  mother  died 
at  his  birth,  and  his  father's  death  left  him  an 
orphan  at  ten  years  of  age.  He  knew  nothing 
about  his  ancestry.  So  far  as  he  knew,  he  had 
not  a  relative  in  the  world.  Soon  after  his 
father's  death  the  family  in  whose  keeping 
his  father  had  placed  him  went  to  the  moun 
tains  on  a  stock  range,  taking  him.  Asso 
ciated  with  his  earliest  recollections  were  the 
lofty,  pine-clad  mountains  with  their  snow 
capped  peaks,  roaring  water  falls,  evergreen 
valleys,  and  the  cool  breezes  of  the  Sierra 
Nevadas,  and  there  he  was  in  the  full  vigor 
of  young  manhood  when  gold  was  discovered 
and  the  playground  of  his  youth  became  the 
El  Dorado  of  the  West.  He  was  one  of  those 
to  whom  the  earth  yielded  her  wealth  of  gold. 

227 


228  UP  THE  GRADE 

Well-placed  investments  on  San  Francisco 
Bay  had  increased  his  fortune;  and  to  crown 
all,  he  married  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  old 
Spanish  Dons,  his  wife  falling  heir  to  a  landed 
estate  numbering  about  sixty  thousand  acres/ 
beautifully  located  in  one  of  the  fertile  valleys 
of  the  Golden  State. 

The  "home"  to  which  he  told  Richard  he 
was  going  was  situated  on  this  rancho  in  the 
place  where  once  stood  the  old  hacienda,  on 
a  vast  plain  covered  with  live  oaks,  standing 
some  distance  back  from  El  Camino  Real,  or 
old  Mission  road,  which  stretches  in  its  lazy, 
serpentine  course  away  to  the  south  for  six 
hundred  miles,  taking  in  the  old  Missions,  now 
only  landmarks,  but  rich  in  the  poetry  of 
tradition.  A  time  worn  thoroughfare  is  El 
Camino  Real,  made  sacred  to  history  by  the 
pilgrimages  of  the  holy  Padres,  who  traversed 
it,  carrying  spiritual  comfort  to  the  pagan 
sons  and  daughters  of  the  land  of  sunshine 
and  soft  sea  breezes. 

A  broad  avenue  runs  back  to  the  old  ha 
cienda  between  rows  of  stately  pepper  trees, 
which  lock  their  boughs  above  it.  A  tall 
cypress  hedge  encloses  perhaps  a  hundred 


UP  THE  GRADE  229 

acres,  where  grow  in  rich  profusion  not  only 
the  fruits,  flowers  and  vines  of  our  own  country, 
but  many  rare  and  delicious  varieties  trans 
planted  from  the  vineyards  and  orchards  of 
Italy,  Spain,  Persia,  Greece  and  Sicily,  all 
flourishing  beneath  the  genial  sun  of  this 
favored  clime. 

Reared  among  such  surroundings  was  the 
beautiful  daughter  and  only  child  of  the  man 
who  said,  "I  am  going  home."  Rosalind 
Cloverdale — "Rosalind,"  from  the  Latin, 
"Beautiful  as  a  rose" — was  rightly  named. 
She  was  almost  a  counterpart  of  what  her 
mother  must  have  been  in  her  girlhood  days, 
when,  as  the  beautiful  senorita  of  the  hacienda 
she  roamed  free  and  happy  as  the  birds, 
breathing  the  perfumed  breezes  among  orange 
blossoms  and  singing  love  songs  in  the  soft 
Spanish  tongue  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  mocking  bird's  notes.  Here  John  Clover- 
dale  found,  wooed  and  won  the  fair  senorita, 
the  envied  and  successful  rival  of  the  dashing 
young  Spanish  cabelleros. 

And  here  we  find  the  beautiful  and  bewitch 
ing  Rosalind,  with  her  guitar  under  the  orange 
blossoms,  singing  the  same  old  songs,  but  in 


230  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  modern  and  American  language  of  her 
father.  Many  a  horseman  comes  dashing  up 
the  long  avenue  under  the  old  pepper  trees, 
bedecked  in  his  sombrero,  gold  lace  and  velvet 
trappings,  to  worship  at  her  shrine,  but  she 
smiles  not  upon  them.  She  plays  upon  her 
guitar,  sings  her  soft  melodies,  and  dreams 
of  the  knight  errant  who  will  come  from  some 
where,  sometime  in  the  dim  future,  and  claim 
her  as  his  own. 

Rosalind  and  her  mother  are  sitting  under 
a  broad  spreading  date  palm  in  a  rustic  seat 
made  from  some  of  its  branches.  Near  them 
is  a  hedge  of  many  colored  geraniums  half  as 
high  as  the  house;  and  nestling  at  its  feet 
are  fuchsias  and  nasturtiums,  with  a  sprink 
ling  of  heliotrope  and  carnations,  with  their 
delicate  perfumes.  Tall  oleander,  acacia, 
camphor,  magnolia  and  rubber  trees  are 
scattered  about  over  the  green  lawn,  and  an 
old  eucalyptus,  with  its  dead  trunk  and 
branches  towering  above  them  all,  stands 
covered  to  its  topmost  branch  by  a  Gold  of 
Ophir  rose,  which  has  choked  its  life  away. 

A  horseman  comes  riding  up,  and  John 
Cloverdale  has  reached  his  home.  As  he 


UP  THE  GRADE  231 

dismounts,  Rosalind  rushes  into  his  arms, 
and  throwing  her  own  about  his  neck,  kisses 
his  dusty  face,  calling  him  her  "dear,  old, 
good  papa,"  almost  smothering  him  with 
her  caresses,  which  he  returns  in  his  rough, 
but  still  gentle  way.  As  soon  as  she  releases 
him,  the  greeting  between  husband  and  wife 
is  so  truly  simple  and  affectionate  as  to  show 
that  they  are  lovers  still.  While  their  honey 
moon  is  long  since  past,  it  did  not  take  all 
the  honey  with  it.  This  great,  strong  man, 
whose  face  is  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  whose 
voice  is  so  soft  and  gentle  and  full  of  love, 
would  hardly  be  recognized  as  the  man  who 
used  such  harsh  language  to  our  Badger  Boy; 
but  he  is,  and  those  who  know  him  so  well 
and  love  him  so  much,  are  not  strangers  to 
his  moods.  They  have  seen  the  dark  thunder 
clouds  pass  for  a  moment  over  that  same  face, 
and  heard  the  "thunder  words "  roll  from 
those  same  lips;  but  they  knew  that  the 
storm  would  soon  pass  and  the  sunshine  soon 
come  back.  They  heed  not  the  rough  exterior 
which  they  know  covers  a  warm,  true  heart. 
He  gives  his  foreman  orders  to  have  a  squad 
of  vaqueros  ready  for  an  early  start  on  the 


232  UP  THE  GRADE 

morrow  to  meet  the  stock  trains  at  the  capitol 
city.  After  he  has  rested  and  refreshed  him 
self,  Rosalind  begs  him  to  tell  her  all  about 
his  trip,  which  he  does,  going  into  such  details 
as  he  thinks  will  interest  her,  especially  the 
snowstorm  he  encountered  at  the  Wadsworth 
farm,  the  counterpart  of  which  she  had  never 
seen,  and  to  which  she  listened  in  amazement. 
He  told  her  of  the  evening  spent  there,  the 
supper,  the  story  telling,  and  described  the 
cattle  he  had  purchased,  comparing  them 
with  those  she  had  been  used  to  seeing  on 
the  rancho,  in  his  characteristic  style. 

Mrs.  Cloverdale  asked  him  how  he  came 
to  leave  the  stock  train  and  come  on  ahead — 
who  he  left  in  charge,  etc.  He  told  her  how 
he  chanced  to  meet  Richard,  and  learning 
that  he  was  going  to  work  his  way  through 
school,  offered  him  a  job,  thinking  to  give 
him  a  lift.  Thought  he  was  a  little  too  fine 
haired  for  a  cow  man  and  really  did  not  expect 
much  from  him,  as  it  was  new  work  to  him, 
but  how  he  proved  to  be  the  best  man  he  had 
right  from  the  start.  He  left  nothing  out, 
even  to  the  story  of  the  telegram  and  what 
came  of  it.  He  said,  "There  ain't  a  cow  man 


UP  THE  GRADE  233 

in  the  state  that  would  have  done  what  he 
did  in  the  way  he  did  it — when  I  as  good  as 
called  him  a  liar.  For  half  a  minute  he  had 
a  fight  with  himself.  He  turned  white  and 
smiled,  and  his  eyes  blazed  like  a  tiger. 
Blamed  if  I  wasn't  afraid  of  him.  I  thought 
he  was  going  to  put  it  all  over  me. 

"I  don't wantno  truck  with  a  man  that  looks 
like  he  did,  but  he  conquered  himself  first, 
then  me.  He's  a  man  through  and  through. 
Any  little  narrow  man  would  have  been  in 
for  a  fight,  or  jumped  the  job.  I'd  give  a 
hundred  thousand  if  I  had  learned  when 
young  to  control  my  temper  like  he  can. 
He's  a  blue  blood  and  must  have  had  a  better 
bringing  up  than  I  had.  He  ain't  afraid  to 
work  at  anything.  I  believe  he'd  shovel 
coal  or  work  on  the  streets  and  think  nothing 
of  it,  if  he  could  only  get  an  education.  I 
feel  as  safe  about  the  cattle  as  though  I  was 
with  them  myself.  I  would  not  be  afraid  to 
make  him  foreman  of  the  ranch  as  soon  as  he 
had  time  to  look  it  over  a  little." 

"Do  you  think  we  ought  to  let  him  work 
so  hard  to  get  through  school?  Couldn't  you 
help  him?"  she  asked. 


234  UP  THE  GRADE 

"Help  him!  Pd  be  mighty  glad  to,  but 
he  wouldn't  take  any  help  from  anyone. 
He's  made  up  his  mind  to  work  his  own  way, 
and  he'll  do  it.  When  you  see  him  and  hear 
him  talk,  so  quiet  and  easy,  you  wouldn't 
dare  to  offer  to  help  him." 

Neither  of  them  had  noticed  how  Rosalind 
was  drinking  in  every  word,  with  flushed 
cheek  and  quickened  breath. 

"Will  he  come  here,  papa?"  she  asked. 

"I  am  going  to  try  and  have  him  do  so, 
if  he  will,"  he  answered. 

"We  ought  to  entertain  him,  if  he  comes, 
because  you  know,  when  he  gets  to  be  a  great 
man,  he  may  visit  us,  and  we  would  be 
ashamed  if  we  let  him  sleep  in  the  'bunk 
house'." 

"Well,  if  he  turns  out  as  well  as  papa 
expects,  he  will  invite  him  home  with  him, 
and  he  shall  have  the  guest  chamber  and  be 
treated  like  a  gentleman,"  said  her  mother 
playfully. 

When  Richard  was  left  alone  with  the 
cattle,  the  first  thing  he  did  was  to  get  ac 
quainted  with  the  men  on  both  trains  and 
have  them  get  acquainted  with  him.  At 


UP  THE  GRADE  235 

first  he  thought  he  detected  a  feeling  of  jeal 
ousy.  This  was  particularly  true  of  the  men 
who  had  charge  of  the  rear  section.  Most 
of  them  were  older  than  he  and  didn't  relish 
working  under  him.  He  soon  learned  their 
names  and  greeted  them  respectfully  but 
firmly,  carefully  avoiding  any  undue  famil 
iarity.  He  easily  adopted  their  idiomatic 
form  of  speech  and  became  one  of  them,  not 
asking  them  to  do  what  he  was  not  willing 
to  do  himself.  It  became  necessary  for  some 
one  to  get  into  a  car  and  help  up  an  animal 
that  would  have  been  trampled  to  death — 
a  rather  dangerous  and  not  at  all  pleasant 
undertaking.  He  went  in  himself  first.  After 
that  there  was  not  a  man  that  would  allow 
him  to  do  so.  They  were  all  ready  to  do  it 
as  often  as  necessary. 

There  was  a  Scotchman  on  the  rear  section 
named  Donald  Lees,  whom  they  all  thought  to 
be  a  surly  fellow,  as  he  did  not  enter  into 
conversation  any  more  than  to  answer  ques 
tions  in  the  shortest  possible  way.  Richard 
discovered  that  he  was  sick  and  suffering 
severe  pain.  He  sent  one  of  the  men  back 
and  brought  Donald  over  to  the  front,  made 


236  UP  THE  GRADE 

up  a  bed  of  blankets  for  him  in  the  caboose, 
and  made  him  lie  down  and  sleep  all  night 
while  he  did  his  work.  At  the  next  stop  he 
sent  for  a  physician,  who  straightened  Donald 
out  and  had  him  as  cheerful  as  any  of  them 
in  a  short  time.  His  big  Scotch  heart  warmed 
toward  Richard,  and  he  never  forgot  the 
kindness  shown  him. 

Richard  told  them  if  they  would  take  two 
thousand  cattle  from  Ogden  to  Sacramento 
without  the  loss  of  one,  it  would  be  a  record 
they  might  all  be  proud  of.  They  fell  in  with 
the  suggestion,  and  by  dint  of  hard  work  and 
watchfulness  they  succeeded  in  doing  it. 

When  their  train  crossed  the  line  of  Nevada 
and  began  to  climb  the  Sierra  Nevadas,  it 
was  a  beautiful  morning  with  a  light  shower 
of  rain  falling.  A  brilliant  rainbow  flung 
itself  across  the  railroad,  its  foot  resting  on 
the  mountains,  leaping  ahead  as  the  train 
rounded  the  curves,  always  spanning  the  track. 
Richard  felt  a  great  buoyancy  of  spirit,  such 
as  he  had  not  experienced  since  leaving 
home.  He  was  almost  at  the  end  of  his  long 
journey,  and  he  had  a  half-superstitious  feel 
ing  that  this  bow  of  promise  was  for  him, 


UP  THE  GRADE  237 

and  that  it  in  some  way  augured  good  for  him. 
Since  he  saw  Annie  Reese  get  on  the  train 
that  night  in  August,  he  had  had  a  great  load 
on  his  heart.  He  had  no  idea  where  she  was, 
and  was  not  sure  that  she  wanted  him  to 
know.  She  evaded  the  question  when  he 
asked  her.  She  was  constantly  on  his  mind 
during  all  his  waking  moments.  A  thousand 
times  he  had  recalled  every  word  that  had 
passed  between  them  during  the  brief  moment 
of  parting.  He  remembered  the  blush  that 
mantled  her  cheek  when  she  gave  him  her 
hand  the  second  time  and  the  resolute  ex 
pression  that  accompanied  the  act.  It  gave 
him  a  ray  of  hope,  which  he  clutched  at  in 
his  desperation.  He  remembered  his  deter 
mination  which  he  expressed  to  his  mother, 
to  not  declare  his  love  until  he  had  made  a 
place  for  himself  worthy  of  her,  and  to  give 
her  a  chance,  if  she  so  wished,  to  marry  a 
man  who  could  offer  her  something  more 
than  promises.  Did  he  mean  that?  What 
if  she  should  marry  some  other  man — one 
who  would  not  treat  her  kindly,  or  who 
would  not  appreciate  her?  He  knew  she 
would  have  offers  of  marriage.  How  could 


238  UP  THE  GRADE 

anyone  fail  to  be  attracted  by  her  beauty 
and  purity?  Would  it  not  have  been  better 
to  have  told  her  plainly  of  his  feelings?  He 
would  have  talked  plainly  to  her  could  they 
have  met  on  the  same  old  footing.  She  be 
lieved  the  stories  about  him;  she  treated  him 
coolly.  But  then  again  there  was  that  last 
look  and  her  warm  hand  in  his.  He  caught 
at  that  little  ray  of  hope  and  cherished  it. 
Then  the  look  she  gave  him  that  day  as  she 
was  leaving  the  church  with  Jackson — his 
heart  swelled  as  he  often  recalled  that.  It 
was  probably  best  as  it  was.  If  she  really 
loved  him  a  hundredth  part  as  he  loved  her, 
she  would  wait.  If  she  should  marry  another, 
he  would  know  that  she  never  loved  him.  If 
she  should  and  was  happy,  that  alone  would 
make  him  happy  in  a  degree.  He  never 
realized  until  now  how  inseparably  she  was 
bound  to  every  hope  and  aim  of  his  life.  He 
would  make  every  minute  count,  and  hurry 
on  with  the  work  he  had  ahead  of  him.  Per 
haps  he  could  work  so  hard  and  keep  his  mind 
so  employed  that  it  would  be  easier  for  him, 
and  he  might  possibly  become  reconciled  to 
the  existing  conditions.  He  would  try. 


UP  THE  GRADE  239 

After  passing  the  snow  sheds  and  the 
"Summit,"  they  began  to  descend  toward 
the  ocean  and  to  pass  the  vineyards  and 
orchards.  Boys  appeared  at  the  train  with 
great  clusters  of  "flaming  Tokays."  He 
commenced  to  feel  that  exhilaration  which 
the  tourist  always  experiences  when  he  begins 
to  drink  in  the  soft,  balmy  air  of  good  old 
California,  and  realizes  that  he  is  really  on 
the  Pacific  slope,  rushing  downward  and 
onward  toward  the  sea. 

In  due  time  the  cattle  were  all  safely  in  the 
corrals  at  Sacramento.  Mr.  Cloverdale  in 
spected  them  and  expressed  himself  as  more 
than  pleased  with  the  success  of  the  under 
taking,  as  it  far  exceeded  his  expectations. 
He  paid  off  all  but  Richard,  and  invited  him 
to  go  home  with  him.  At  first  he  hesitated 
and  explained  that  he  felt  that  he  should  lose 
no  time  before  getting  at  the  work  that 
brought  him  there. 

Mr.  Cloverdale  said:  "I  shall  hardly  feel 
that  your  work  is  finished  until  you  see  those 
cattle  on  the  ranch.  Then,  again,  I  want  you 
to  see  our  place  and  know  where  we  live  for 
you  may  get  homesick,  and  I  want  you  to  feel 


240  UP  THE  GRADE 

that  you  have  a  home  in  California  to  come 
to  in  case  you  should  need  one." 

The  words,  spoken  in  so  kindly  a  manner, 
had  such  a  ring  of  genuineness  in  them  that 
Richard  was  touched  and  had  to  choke  back 
that  old  lump  which  had  worked  up  into  his 
throat  and  bothered  him  a  good  many  times 
since  he  had  left  home. 

He  thanked  Mr.  Cloverdale,  and  told  him 
that  under  such  circumstances  he  would 
gladly  go. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
ROSALIND 

WHEN  they  arrived  at  the  rancho,  Mr. 
Cloverdale  sent  Richard's  baggage,  which  had 
all  been  brought  through  in  the  supply  wagon 
from  Sacramento,  directly  to  his  room,  and 
showed  him  up  before  presenting  him  to  his 
family.  The  room  was  supplied  with  a  bath, 
and  after  making  a  careful  toilet,  Richard 
emerged  therefrom  with  the  appearance  and 
bearing  of  a  successful  young  banker  or 
professional  man.  No  one  would  have  sus 
pected  that  he  had  just  come  through  such 
varied  and  trying  practical  experiences.  He 
had  travelled  more  than  two  thousand  miles, 
been  under  pay  every  day,  and  felt  that  he 
had  earned  his  money. 

When  he  went  down  to  the  parlor,  he  found 
Mr.  Cloverdale  there,  still  in  his  working 
clothes,  waiting  to  introduce  him  to  Mrs. 
Cloverdale  and  Rosalind,  which  he  did  quite 
informally. 

241 


242  UP  THE  GRADE 

Mrs.  Cloverdale  said:  "My  husband  has 
told  us  of  you,  so  we  feel  quite  acquainted. 
While  with  us,  please  consider  yourself  one 
of  the  family — everything  is  yours,"  the 
latter  being  a  form  of  Spanish  hospitality 
which  still  remained  with  her.  Mrs.  Clover- 
dale,  excusing  herself,  left  the  young  people 
alone,  when  Rosalind  asked  him  if  he  would 
like  to  see  the  grounds.  In  a  few  minutes 
they  were  like  old  acquaintances.  The  palms, 
flowers,  and,  in  fact,  nearly  all  the  trees  and 
vegetation  were  so  different  from  any  with 
which  he  was  familiar,  and  the  grounds  were 
so  extensive  and  beautifully  laid  out,  that  he 
found  himself  wondering  whether  this  was 
not  all  a  dream,  or  was  it  real  and  this  some 
enchanted  spot,  and  this  little  black-eyed, 
rosy-cheeked  maiden  some  fairy  queen?  He 
could  not  realize  that  at  his  old  home  in  the 
"Badger"  state  old  Winter  had  everything 
wrapped  in  his  cold  embrace.  Here  was  the 
breath  of  Spring — yet  not  so,  for  ripe  fruit 
still  hung  on  many  trees.  They  visited  the 
storehouse.  There  were  nuts  of  every  de 
scription,  great  clusters  of  grapes  of  every 
color  and  variety,  raisins,  prunes,  figs,  plums, 


UP  THE  GRADE  243 

apples,  pears.  Outside  they  found  lemon 
trees  with  fruit  in  every  stage  from  the  blos 
som  to  yellow  ripeness  and  oranges  and  limes, 
both  green  and  ripe,  on  the  same  trees.  They 
walked  through  the  vegetable  gardens,  and 
found  long,  green  rows  of  every  variety.  In 
the  poultry  yards  were  turkeys,  geese,  ducks, 
chickens,  peacocks  strutting  in  the  sunshine, 
Chinese  pheasants  with  plumage  like  birds 
of  Paradise ;  and  everywhere  everything  that 
he  had  ever  seen  or  heard  of,  and  many,  many 
things  in  every  department,  vegetable  and 
animal,  that  he  had  never  dreamed  of,  and 
in  such  quantities — all  so  different  from  his 
old  home. 

Rosalind  was  so  delighted  to  be  the  one  to 
show  him  the  scenes  in  which  all  of  her  life 
had  been  spent  that  she  as  well  as  he  forgot 
that  the  hours  were  passing,  until  a  servant, 
who  had  been  sent  to  find  them,  told  her  that 
dinner  was  waiting.  While  the  dinner  was 
served  with  superabundance,  Richard  was 
struck  with  the  simplicity  and  plainness 
of  the  real  rural  life  which  he  found  in  this 
home  of  so  great  wealth. 

There  was  none  of  the  ostentatious  show 


244  UP  THE  GRADE 

which  is  so  often  found  where  money  is  not 
wanting  to  gratify  every  selfish  desire.  Mr. 
Cloverdale  had  found  a  better  way  to  employ 
his  surplus  wealth. 

When  Rosalind  spoke  of  plans  for  several 
days  ahead,  Richard  told  them  that,  much  as 
he  would  enjoy  a  longer  stay  in  so  delightful 
a  place,  he  felt  that  he  should  go  the  next  day. 
Mrs.  Cloverdale  expressed  regret,  and  Rosa 
lind  made  no  attempt  to  conceal  her  disap 
pointment.  It  was  finally  decided  that  he 
should  remain  over  the  next  day  and  ride  over 
a  part  of  the  rancho  with  Rosalind;  and  the 
next  morning  she  and  her  father  would  drive 
him  to  the  nearest  railroad  station  on  the 
then  only  line  that  penetrated  that  valley. 

After  dinner  Richard  asked  Rosalind  to 
sing,  which  she  did,  accompanying  herself 
on  the  guitar,  first  singing  in  Spanish  and 
then  in  English,  from  her  own  translation. 
Mr.  Cloverdale  said  that  he  had  heard  Richard 
sing  some  negro  melodies,  and  Rosalind  threw 
open  the  piano  with  great  glee,  and  would  not 
be  satisfied  until  he  brought  some  of  his 
music ;  and  they  spent  an  hour  singing,  to  the 
great  edification  of  her  parents,  her  soft  soprano 


UP  THE  GRADE  245 

harmonizing  beautifully  with  his  rich  baritone. 
Early  the  next  morning  saddle  horses  were 
brought  around.  Her  own  jet  black  was 
rigged  out  in  all  the  trappings  of  a  vaquero, 
even  to  a  braided  leather  riata  on  the  saddle 
horn.  They  first  visited  some  of  the  culti 
vated  portion  of  the  rancho,  where  teams 
of  from  eight  to  sixteen  horses  each  were 
driven  by  one  man  with  a  "  jerk  line/'  turning 
the  soil  for  next  season's  crop  of  wheat  and 
barley.  These  were  followed  by  others  sowing 
the  seed,  all  on  the  same  extensive  scale, 
planting  each  day  more  acres  than  Mr. 
Belden's  entire  farm.  When  Richard  spoke 
of  the  enormous  work  of  harvesting  such  a 
crop,  she  told  him  that,  as  there  was  no  rain 
at  that  season  of  the  year,  they  could  take 
their  time  harvesting.  She  then  took  him 
to  see  some  of  the  harvesting  machines, 
which  cut  the  heads  off  the  grain,  threshed 
and  left  it  in  sacks  upon  the  ground,  a  single 
machine  cutting  and  threshing  over  fifty 
acres  a  day,  and  requiring  fifty  horses  and 
several  men  to  operate  it.  All  this  was 
exceedingly  interesting  to  one  of  Richard's 
mechanical  turn  of  mind. 


246  UP  THE   GRADE 

During  the  afternoon,  while  they  were 
returning  by  another  route,  they  came  upon 
what  appeared  to  be  quite  a  village,  nestled 
in  a  grove  of  live  oaks.  The  houses  were 
nearly  all  alike — small,  built  of  adobe,  and 
whitewashed,  each  having  a  garden,  chicken 
yard,  etc.  As  they  passed  it,  he  noticed  that 
the  people  living  there  were  aged.  He  asked 
who  they  were. 

"Oh,  they  live  here,"  she  answered. 

"This  is  on  the  ranch,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  it's  on  the  ranch,"  she  said  hesita 
tingly. 

"Do  they  work  for  your  father?" 

"  No,  they  don't  work  for  anyone  but  them 
selves.  Some  of  them  weave  cloth  for  the 
others,  and  they  tend  their  gardens  for  them. 
They  help  each  other." 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  he,  "they  rent  these 
houses  from  your  father." 

"No,  they  don't  rent  them — they  just  live 
here,"  she  answered.  "I  will  tell  you  how 
it  is,  but  you  must  not  say  a  word  about  what 
you  know.  Papa  never  tells  of  the  good 
things  he  does,  and  hardly  anyone  knows 
about  this  place. 


• 

m 


This  is  on  the   ranch,  isn't  it?" 


UP  THE  GRADE  247 

"He  calls  it  his  'kindergarten'  when  he 
speaks  of  it  to  mamma  and  me.  These  are 
poor,  old  people  he  has  found  here  and  there, 
with  no  one  to  care  for  them.  They  will  live 
here  all  their  lives,  and  when  they  die,  they 
will  be  buried  over  there  in  the  grove  of 
acacias  where  you  see  all  those  white  head 
stones.  He  comes  out  here  quite  often  to 
see  how  they  are  getting  along.  He  takes 
good  care  of  them.  Oh,  my  papa  is  an  awfully 
good  man !  He  won't  let  anyone  suffer  around 
where  he  is,  when  he  has  so  much." 

Richard  asked  her  if  she  had  ever  had  any 
brothers  or  sisters.  She  said  she  had  a  little 
brother  who  died  when  he  was  so  young  that 
she  did  not  remember  him.  She  asked  him 
about  his  family.  He  told  her  the  name 
and  age  of  each,  and  related  numerous  inci 
dents  in  their  lives  of  a  nature  which  he  knew 
would  amuse  and  interest  her.  Just  before 
they  reached  the  house,  she  said:  "I  am 
sorry  you  are  going  away  so  soon.  I  hope 
you  will  come  again."  Then  lifting  her  eyes, 
which  were  filled  with  tears,  to  his,  she  said: 
"Won't  you  be  my  brother?  I  like  you." 
Rosalind  was  as  artless  as  a  babe.  She  had 


248  UP  THE  GRADE 

seen  very  little  of  the  world.  She  had  re 
ceived  her  education  from  the  good  old 
white-haired  priest,  who  was  an  old  man 
when  she  was  born,  and  who  had  been  as  one 
of  the  household  at  the  old  hacienda  in  her 
grandfather's  days.  Her  parents  had  guarded 
her  from  contact  with  the  temptations  and 
evils  of  the  world,  as  a  tender  plant.  She 
knew  no  such  thing  as  fear,  falsehood  or 
deceit.  Her  physical  training  had  not  been 
neglected.  She  could  perform  almost  any 
feat  of  the  best  horseman  on  the  rancho, 
could  throw  her  riata  as  true  as  they  and 
would  not  hesitate  to  drop  it  over  the  horns 
or  feet  of  the  wildest  steer,  when  the  exciting 
days  of  the  rodeo  were  on.  She  was  a  strong, 
perfectly  developed,  mature  woman,  whose 
life  presented  the  unusual  paradox  of  beauty, 
innocence  and  purity  in  what  the  senseless 
butterflies  of  society  would  have  called  a 
"Tom-boy." 

She  loved  Richard  before  she  saw  him,  but 
was  as  unconscious  of  the  fact  as  was  he. 
Her  words  and  manner  surprised  him.  He 
did  not  know  how  to  give  her  the  answer  for 
which  she  was  waiting. 


UP  THE  GRADE  249 

"When  we  get  better  acquainted,  we  will 
play  I  am  your  brother,  if  you  still  want  me 
to/7  was  his  answer. 

"Oh,  I  shall/7  she  said. 

As  Richard  was  about  to  take  the  train 
the  next  day,  Mr.  Cloverdale  handed  him  a 
sealed  letter  addressed  to  the  president  of  the 
school  of  which  Mr.  Yale  had  told  him.  As 
soon  as  the  ferryboat,  which  took  him  across 
the  bay,  landed  him  in  San  Francisco,  he 
went  to  a  savings  bank  and  deposited  his 
money.  After  engaging  a  room  in  a  popular 
hotel — now  one  of  the  landmarks,  left  stand 
ing  as  a  relic  of  the  old  days — he  went  to  find 
"that  school/7  to  which  and  through  which 
he  said  he  would  work  his  way,  if  it  took  him 
ten  years.  He  found  the  president  in  his 
office,  and  presented  the  letter  which  Mr. 
Cloverdale  gave  him.  He  read  it  with  an 
amused  expression,  as  though  something  in 
it  had  nearly  thrown  him  off  his  dignity. 
Then  he  turned  his  eyes  on  Richard  and 
looked  at  him  some  time  without  speaking, 
then  said: 

"The  next  term  begins  January  fifteenth. 
Do  you  want  to  start  in  then?" 


250  UP  THE  GRADE 

Richard  took  from  his  pocket  the  cata 
logue  which  he  had  written  for  and  received 
at  St.  Louis,  and  turned  to  the  course  of  study 
which  he  had  decided  upon,  saying: 

"My  educational  advantages  have  been  of 
necessity  somewhat  limited  and  confined 
largely  to  home  study  under  the  tutorage  of 
my  mother.  I  would  like  to  take  an  examina 
tion  and  know  what  preparation  may  be 
necessary  before  entering  upon  that  course/' 
showing  him  the  one  he  had  marked. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  president,  "come  at 
nine  o'clock  tomorrow  morning,  and  I  will 
look  you  over  personally  and  see  what  we 
can  do  for  you." 

The  result  of  that  "looking  over,"  which 
Richard  thought  very  thorough,  showed  that 
he  was  really  much  further  advanced  than  he 
supposed  he  was,  thanks  to  the  long  evenings 
and  late  hours  spent  with  his  mother  over 
her  old  books,  which  she  had  preserved,  and 
which  proved  to  be  more  than  souvenirs  of 
her  schooldays.  The  president  said  his 
mother  was  to  be  congratulated  on  the 
thoroughness  with  which  she  had  prepared 
him  for  the  higher  branches.  He  said : 


UP  THE  GRADE  251 

"You  can  enter  that  class  at  the  beginning 
of  next  term,  and  if  you  wish  to  put  in  the 
time  until  then  under  a  tutor  whom  I  will 
recommend,  I  think  you  will  make  rapid  ad 
vancement.  You  appear  to  be  a  natural 
student." 

He  gave  him  the  address  of  a  family  who 
could  give  him  "accommodation"  at  a 
moderate  price.  "You  have  a  valuable 
friend  in  John  Cloverdale,"  he  said,  offering 
him  his  hand  as  he  went  out. 

John  Cloverdale's  letter  read  as  follows: 

"DR.  — 

President,  etc., 
DEAR  HENRY : 

The  young  man  who  will  hand  you  this  is  a  thorough 
bred.  I  found  him  out  on  the  Missouri,  working  his 
way  to  you.  He  is  a  badger  from  Wisconsin.  You 
remember  the  badger  we  caught  when  we  were  camp 
ing  in  the  Yosemite,  that  turned  clear  over  in  his  skin? 
This  badger  has  made  up  his  mind  to  be  a  civil  engineer, 
and  Satan  himself  couldn't  stop  him.  Help  him  along. 
He  will  want  a  place  to  stop  that  is  respectable  and 
moderate  in  price. 

Bring  Marie  out  and  stay  over  Sunday  with  us,  as 
soon  as  you  can.  We  are  saving  a  big  turkey  for  you. 

JOHN  CLOVERDALE." 


252  TIP  THE  GRADE 

Richard  found  the  boarding-place  and  the 
tutor,  and  entered  the  school  January 
fifteenth. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 
"!F  HE  COULD  ONLY  KNOW" 

IT  would  be  hard  to  tell  which  was  the  more 
surprised  when  Vivian  introduced  them, 
Annie  Reese  or  Vincent  Warburton.  He 
showed  some  embarrassment.  If  she  felt  any, 
no  one  could  have  detected  it.  She  was  intro 
duced  and  took  her  seat  in  the  carriage  with 
as  much  ease  as  if  such  a  "  turnout"  had  been 
at  her  disposal  all  her  life.  When  they 
reached  the  Warburton  mansion,  she  showed 
no  sign  of  being  dazzled  by  its  splendor. 
She  acted  as  she  really  was,  wherever  she  was, 
perfectly  natural.  She  had  been  one  year 
in  school  and  was  on  her  way  home  to  spend 
her  vacation  on  the  old  farm  with  her  parents 
and  her  brothers.  She  was  going  back  to 
her  old  room  under  the  oaks,  which  was 
dearer  to  her  than  all  the  gilded  palaces  that 
gold  could  buy.  If  she  took  any '  'country  airs' ' 
with  her  when  she  "went  east,"  they  were  not 
noticeable  that  evening  as  she  sat  at  the  dinner 

253 


254  UP  THE   GRADE 

table  as  one  of  the  Warburton  family  circle. 
A  number  of  "their  set"  came  in  to  spend 
the  evening,  informally,  with  the  Warburtons. 
Among  them  is  a  gentleman  who  has  a  fa 
miliar  look  to  us,  and  we  wonder  where  we 
have  met  him  before.  He  is  accompanied 
by  his  wife,  and  they  are  stopping  at  one  of 
the  fashionable  hotels.  Most  of  the  callers 
were  young  people.  Vivian,  very  proud  of 
her  guest,  and  anxious  to  have  her  show  her 
talents,  invited  several  of  them  present  to 
sing.  Some  of  them  responded  after  con 
siderable  urging  and  after  making  proper 
excuse,  selecting,  of  course,  something  classi 
cal,  of  the  operatic  style,  written  over  the 
signature  of  some  high-sounding,  hard-pro 
nouncing  foreigner,  and  not  so  much  with  a 
view  to  soul-stirring  melody  as  to  permit  of  a 
display  of  vocal  gymnastics.  There  were 
the  usual  senseless,  trashy  words  and  facial 
contortions,  so  pleasing  to  a  certain  class  of 
"  society  people."  After  these  performances 
were  over,  Vivian  rushed  across  the  room  in 
her  impulsive  girlish  way,  and  throwing  her  arm 
around  (we  nearly  said  Badger  girl)  Miss  Reese, 
said:  "Now  you  will  sing  for  us,  won't  you?" 


UP  THE  GRADE  255 

Without  an  excuse,  without  waiting  to  be 
coaxed,  Annie  went  to  the  piano  and  sang  a 
simple  song  with  beautiful,  touching  words, 
which  were  pronounced  as  distinctly  as  sen 
sible  people  speak,  without  the  least  affecta 
tion,  free,  natural,  American.  The  air  was 
fitted  to  the  words,  and  played  upon  the 
tenderest  heart  strings,  while  the  words  sank 
into  the  soul.  If  John  Cloverdale  had  been 
present  and  expressed  his  honest  opinion  in 
his  own  way,  it  is  more  than  likely  that  he 
would  have  said  there  was  "  as  much  difference 
between  the  two  styles  of  music,  as  between 
an  Aeolian  harp  and  the  wind  blowin'  a  sliver 
on  a  rail  fence — both  produced  in  the  same 
way  but  mighty  different  in  effect."  But 
that  would  be  shocking  to  "society,"  and 
John  Cloverdale  is  not  a  competent  musical 
critic. 

If  Vincent  Warburton  was  "hit,"  as  his 
college  chums  accused  him  of  being  when 
on  the  train  he  had  only  seen  Annie,  he  was 
struck  hard  now,  and  he  had  not  the  tact  to 
conceal  it.  His  mother  saw  it,  and  Vivian 
suspected  it,  to  her  unbounded  delight. 

After  Annie  had  retired  and  the  family 


256  UP  THE  GRADE 

were  alone,  Vincent  said:  "By  Jove!  That's 
the  sweetest  voice  I  ever  heard.  She's  got 
a  bird  in  her  throat." 

His  mother  said : 

"Yes,  she  has  a  sweet  voice.  It's  a  pity 
she  does  not  come  from  some  good  family. 
She  talks  about  her  'folks'  on  the  'old  farm/ 
in  a  way  that's  entirely  out  of  place  in 
'society.'  If  she  would  drop  that  and  take 
up  operatic  music,  /  think  she  would  become 
a  very  great  singer.  You  must  be  more  care 
ful,  Vivian,  how  you  pick  up  strangers.  You 
should  first  look  up  their  family  history  and 
social  standing.  You  might  bring  reproach 
upon  yourself  and  seriously  injure  the  social 
status  of  our  family  by  introducing  such 
people  into  our  '  circle.' " 

Vivian  burst  out  crying,  and  said  between 
her  sobs,  "I — I — d — don't  ca-care — I — th — 
think  she's  as  good  as  any  of  them,"  and  she 
rushed  off  to  her  room. 

"By  thunder!  That's  what  /  think,"  said 
Vincent.  "For  my  part,  I'm  sick  of  all  this 
twaddle  about  'society'  and  'our  set.'  /  say 
she's  as  good  as  any  of  'em — even  if  her 
father  was  as  poor  as  '  Job's  turkey.'  I  sup- 


UP  THE  GRADE  257 

pose  if  he  had  owned  a  little  grocery  store, 
and  through  the  tricks  of  the  trade  had  suc 
ceeded  in  cheating  his  way  to  a  fortune,  he 
would  be  called  a  wealthy  merchant,  and  his 
family  would  be  eligible  to  enter  'society' 
and  be  welcome  to  'our  set'." 

"Be  careful,  Vincent,"  said  his  father, 
quietly.  But  he  spoke  too  late.  Mrs.  War- 
burton  burst  into  a  fit  of  hysterical  weeping. 

"Who  would  ever  have  thought  that  my 
son  would  grow  up  to  talk  that  way  about 
his  grandfather,"  she  said,  drawing  out  a 
little  lace  handkerchief  and  covering  her  face 
with  it — as  far  as  it  would  go.  "My  heart 
is  broken." 

Vincent  relented.  "Now  look  here,  ma," 
he  said,  "I  wasn't  talking  about  anybody's 
grandfather — I  didn't  know  I  ever  had  one 
that  that  would  apply  to.  I  was  talking  on 
general  principles  about  society.  Don't  mind 
what  I  say.  You  know  I'm  a  little  cranky, 
anyway." 

"Yes,  I  know  you  are,"  she  said,  "and  it 
would  be  just  like  you,  in  one  of  your  cranky 
fits,  to  marry  a  girl  from  some  poor  family 
and  bring  disgrace  on  all  of  us." 


258  UP  THE   GRADE 

"Well,  let's  drop  it,  mother.  I'm  sorry  for 
what  I  said." 

She  began  to  dry  her  tears  and  went  to  her 
room,  greatly  hurt.  Mr.  Warburton  said 
nothing,  but  he  looked  at  his  son  as  if  he  was 
proud  of  him.  He  was  too  good  a  business 
man  to  care  much  for  "society." 

During  the  evening  it  was  agreed  that  all 
should  go  on  an  excursion  among  the  islands 
the  next  day. 

When  the  morning  dawned,  bright  and 
clear,  and  the  sun  shed  its  flood  of  glory 
among  the  Thousand  Isles,  all  was  as  peace 
ful  and  tranquil  inside  the  Warburton  mansion 
as  without. 

The  family  were  astir  early  in  anticipation 
of  a  happy  day's  outing.  Wearied  with  sight 
seeing,  the  Warburton  family  and  their  guest 
were  sitting  in  a  shaded  spot  on  the  deck  of 
the  boat  by  themselves,  when  they  were 
joined  by  the  gentleman  and  his  wife  men 
tioned  as  being  present  the  evening  before. 
After  a  few  minutes  of  general  conversation, 
the  gentleman,  addressing  Mr.  Warburton,  said : 

"I  wish  you  would  go  out  west  with  me 
sometime  and  see  my  stock  farm.  I  am 


UP  THE  GRADE  259 

going  earlier  this  fall  so  as  to  be  there  when 
the  prairie  chickens  are  'ripe.'  Go  along  with 
me,  and  I'll  promise  you  some  shooting  that 
you  won't  forget  for  a  long  time." 

Mr.  Warburton,  and  all,  in  fact,  seemed 
interested,  which  led  him  on.  "  I  had  a  great 
trip  last  fall.  It's  real  recreation  to  get  out 
there  among  those  cow  men  and  hear  them 
tell  stories  and  sing  their  wild  frontier  songs. 
There  are  some  bright  fellows  among  them. 
I  got  caught  in  a  blizzard  the  last  time  I  was 
there.  A  California  capitalist  came  in  on  us 
the  night  of  a  terrible  storm — nearly  frozen, 
but  he  had  life  enough  left  to  buy  eight  hun 
dred  head  of  cattle  before  he  had  his  supper, 
or  before  he  saw  them  for  that  matter.  He 
had  four  men  with  him.  I  have  often  thought 
of  one  young  man  that  he  said  was  going  out 
there  to  study  civil  engineering.  He  struck 
me  as  a  genius.  He  was  from  Wisconsin." 

"That's  where  Miss  Reese  is  from,"  chimed 
in  Vivian.  This  called  attention  to  her,  and 
they  all  noticed  that  she  was  blushing. 

"What  was  his  name?"  asked  Vincent. 

"I  only  heard  his  first  name,  Richard/' 
said  Mr.  Wadsworth. 


260  UP  THE  GRADE 

They  all  turned  their  eyes  upon  Annie,  and 
saw  the  color  deepen,  and  when  Vivian 
shouted — "So  his  name  is  Richard,  is  it?'; 
she  showed  her  embarrassment,  but  tried  to 
turn  it  off  by  saying : 

"When  one  has  been  away  from  home  so 
long,  the  mention  of  the  home  state  unex 
pectedly  naturally  agitates  one  a  little.  As 
for  Richard — that's  quite  a  common  name 
with  us." 

Her  answer  satisfied  Vincent,  who  felt  a 
pang  of  jealousy  at  first,  but  it  did  not  satisfy 
Annie.  After  she  had  gone  to  her  room  that 
night  she  had  a  little  cry,  and  whispered  to 
herself  between  her  sobs:  "I  wish  he  had 
described  him.  I  couldn't  question  him  after 
what  they  said.  I  almost  know  it  was 
Richard  Williams.  Oh,  if  he  could  only  know 
how  I  feel  toward  him  now.  That  was  last  fall. 
I  wonder  where  he  is  now.  I  did  doubt  him, 
and  he  must  have  seen  it.  I  didn't  tell  him 
where  I  was  going.  I  don't  doubt  him  now, 
but  now  it  is  too  late.  I  must  try  and  forget 
him.  I  am  sure  someone  was  trying  to 
injure  him." 

The  process  by  which  she  had  her  confi- 


UP  THE  GRADE  261 

dence  in  him  restored  was  a  rather  shrewd 
one.  She  had  the  letter  from  Mr.  Belden  to 
Jackson,  which  he  had  dropped  as  he  was 
leaving  the  house,  and  also  the  one  from 
Nettie  Jones.  She  had  read  them  both 
many,  many  times.  She  had  discovered  the 
discrepancy  between  them.  In  the  letter 
to  Jackson,  Mr.  Belden  spoke  with  much 
sympathy  for  Richard's  parents  and  pro 
fessed  friendship  for  them.  Nettie  Jones 
said  that  Mr.  Belden  "was  telling"  that  he 
was  going  to  drive  the  race  horse,  and  the 
reports  were  that  he  drank  with  Mr.  Belden. 
There  was  contradiction,  falsehood  some 
where.  That  horrible  Jackson  was  in  some 
way  mixed  up  with  it.  Her  reasoning  was 
good,  but  she  gave  him  up  as  lost  to  her  and 
tried  to  forget  him.  She  was  not  greatly 
displeased  by  the  attention  paid  her  by 
Vincent  Warburton.  They  could  be  good 
friends — surely  never  more  than  that,  but 
that  would  help  her  to  forget. 

When  she  was  leaving  she  promised  to  go 
home  with  Vivian  for  the  holidays;  and 
when  Vincent  told  her  he  was  coming  to  visit 
them  after  she  and  Vivian  went  back  to 


262  UP  THE  GRADE 

school,  she  told  him  she  would  be  glad  to  see 
him.  Oh,  no,  they  could  never  be  more  than 
good  friends,  she  was  sure  of  that. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

A  NEW  EXPERIENCE 

THE  boarding-house  to  which  Richard  was 
directed  was  kept  by  a  Mrs.  Watkins.  In  an 
early  day  it  had  been  a  very  respectable  resi 
dence,  occupied  as  a  home  by  a  gentleman 
who  had  grown  into  wealth  and  had  built  a 
more  showy  one  in  a  fashionable  neighbor 
hood. 

Mrs.  Watkins  was  not  a  widow,  but  her 
husband  was  a  promoter.  They  had  two 
children.  Both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Watkins  were 
well  educated.  When  they  were  married  in 
an  eastern  state,  they  had  what  would  be 
considered  a  good  start  in  the  world.  Had 
Mr.  Watkins  been  satisfied  to  go  into  some 
business  and  "stick  to  it,"  he  might  have 
succeeded.  Both  himself  and  his  wife  thought 
he  was  a  man  of  great  ability,  too  great  to 
be  hid  under  a  bushel.  They  decided  to 
seek  a  broader  field,  one  more  commensurate 
with  his  ability,  where  he  could  expand.  So 

263 


264  UP  THE  GRADE 

they  went  to  California,  but  he  failed  to  ex 
pand,  as  they  had  expected.  His  money  was 
soon  gone;  and  when  reduced  to  desperate 
circumstances,  she  decided  to  take  care  of 
the  family  by  keeping  boarders  and  teaching 
music,  and  leave  nothing  for  him  to  do  but 
"expand,"  which  neither  of  them  doubted 
he  would  do  in  time. 

Richard  had  hardly  got  settled  in  his  room 
before  that  worthy  gentleman  called  upon 
him  and  introduced  himself,  presenting  a 
card  gotten  up  very  elaborately  with  a  coat 
of  arms,  and  the  conspicuously  printed  name, 
"Hiram  Watkins,  Mines  and  Investments." 

"  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me,  Mr.  Williams, 
for  calling  on  you  so  soon  after  your  arrival, 
to  present  a  business  matter,  but  I  have  found 
that  the  early  bird  catches  the  worm.  I  am 
aggressive,  alert,  I  have  a  keen  eye  to  business. 
I  take  it  you  are  a  new-comer,  a  tenderfoot, 
so  to  speak — doubtless  have  some  money  idle 
that  you  want  to  see  employed.  I  have  one 
of  the  best  propositions  in  my  hands  just 
now  that  I  have  ever  undertaken  to  promote — 
a  rare  opportunity.  I  should  feel  humiliated 
if  anyone  should  go  out  from  under  my — 


UP  THE  GRADE  265 

our — that  is  to  say,  Mrs.  Watkins'  roof,  and 
fall  into  the  hands  of  some  of  my  business 
competitors,  and  get — get — get  fleeced,  so  to 
speak/'  Here  he  produced  a  map  and  pointed 
out  where  his  " proposition"  was  located — • 
"Right  in  the  great  gold-producing  district 
and  surrounded  by  mines  from  which  millions 
had  been  taken — '  the  real  stuff. ' 

"  We  have  ore  enough  in  sight,  blocked  out, 
and  on  the  dump,  to  make  us  all  rich.  We 
want  to  place  a  little  stock,  just  a  little,  among 
a  few  of  our  friends,  at  ten  cents  a  share,  to 
buy  necessary  machinery,  etc.  Next  month 
it  goes  to  fifteen  cents.  As  soon  as  we  have 
this  little  block  of  treasury  stock  sold,  you 
won't  be  able  to  get  a  share  at  a  cent  less  than 
twenty-five." 

When  he  finally  stopped  to  catch  his  breath, 
Richard  told  him  he  was  a  student  and  un 
fortunately  had  no  capital  "seeking  invest 
ment"  This  did  not  seem  to  discourage 
Mr.  Watkins  in  the  least.  He  paced  back 
and  forth  with  his  hands  behind  him,  naming 
great  mines  in  which  stock  had  sold  for  a 
trifle  and  afterwards  rose  to  fabulous  prices. 
If  Richard  had  been  less  settled  in  his  plans, 


266  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  man  before  him  in  his  seedy  Prince  Albert 
would  have  succeeded  in  getting  what  he  was 
talking  for,  viz.:  his  commission  on  the  sale 
of  stock  in  a  company  which  was  organized 
purely  as  a  stock-selling  "proposition."  Mr. 
Watkins  had  never  been  at  the  mine.  He 
simply  told  the  story  that  the  organizers 
gave  him. 

Mrs.  Watkins  was  a  very  agreeable  lady, 
who  looked  after  the  comfort  of  her  guests 
with  almost  maternal  solicitude,  which  made 
her  very  popular  with  them.  A  good  many 
of  her  "family"  (for  they  were  all  treated  as 
such)  were  students;  and  she,  having  spent 
so  much  of  her  life  as  a  student,  both  in  college 
and  the  conservatory  of  music  from  which 
she  had  graduated,  her  home  was  naturally 
pervaded  by  a  literary  and  educational  atmos 
phere.  She  was  very  proficient  in  music,  and 
rapidly  growing  in  popularity  as  a  teacher. 
Her  only  weakness,  if  such  it  was,  was  her 
pride  in  the  ability  of  her  husband  and  faith 
in  his  ultimate  success  in  some  great  enter 
prise  which  would  bring  wealth,  honor  and 
influence. 

Richard  knew  very  little  about  city  life  in 


UP  THE  GRADE  267 

a  practical  way.  Since  he  had  been  in  the 
city,  he  had  been  absorbed  by  his  work,  so 
that  he  had  taken  very  little  time  for  sight 
seeing  or  observation.  School  would  soon 
close  for  the  summer  vacation,  and  he  planned 
to  devote  a  part  of  the  first  week  of  vacation 
in  getting  acquainted  with  the  city,  and  to 
find  employment  for  the  summer.  So  when 
that  time  came,  he  set  out  to  see  the  sights. 
Thus  far  he  had  been  so  successful  in  all  his 
undertakings  that  he  began  to  have  rather 
an  exalted  opinion  of  the  ability  of  a  certain 
young  man  from  the  Badger  state  to  take 
care  of  himself  under  all  circumstances. 
Richard  had  a  slight  attack  of  cerebral  en 
largement.  He  had  had  a  bit  of  experience 
in  going  around  a  strange  city  with  a  stranger; 
and  not  having  made  any  close  acquaintances 
among  his  fellow-students,  he  did  not  care 
to  acknowledge  to  any  of  them  that  he  was  en 
tirely  unacquainted  with  that  city  and  city  life 
in  general,  and  he  therefore  decided  to  go  alone. 
The  first  day  he  spent  on  the  water  front 
among  the  shipping.  The  loading  and  un 
loading  of  ocean  steamers  engaged  in  oriental 
traffic  was  of  great  interest  to  him. 


268  UP  THE  GRADE 

The  next  day  he  started  to  visit  the  military 
post  and  the  Golden  Gate.  As  he  came  to 
the  foot  of  one  of  the  steep  hills  for  which 
that  city  is  noted,  he  came  upon  a  teamster, 
whose  heavily  loaded  team  was  stalled;  and 
the  driver — &  coarse,  brutal  fellow,  partly 
intoxicated — was  trying  to  make  them  haul 
the  load  up  the  hill,  which  anyone  with  the 
least  judgment  could  see  was  an  impossibility. 
Quite  a  number  of  those  passing  had  stopped 
and  were  whispering  indignantly  at  the  bru 
tality  of  the  teamster,  but  seemingly  did  not 
dare  to  interfere.  For  some  time  the  horses 
responded  to  his  blows  and  curses  and  at 
tempted  to  move  the  load;  but,  becoming 
exhausted  and  discouraged,  they  both  refused 
to  try.  His  anger  knew  no  bounds.  Seizing 
a  heavy  cudgel,  he  began  to  beat  one  of  them 
over  the  head.  This  was  more  than  Richard 
could  stand.  As  we  have  already  seen,  it 
was  as  natural  for  him  to  be  kind  to  animals 
as  it  was  to  breathe.  He  would  have  resented 
cruelty  to  one  of  the  least  of  the  animal 
kingdom  quicker  than  an  insult  to  himself. 
Acting  upon  a  humane  impulse  and  without 
counting  the  cost,  he  rushed  between  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  269 

brute  with  the  club  and  his  bleeding  victim, 
and  spoke  kindly  but  firmly.  He  might  as 
well  have  tried  to  reason  with  or  stop  a  mad 
man.  The  club  was  turned  on  Richard.  He 
partly  warded  off  the  blow  with  his  left  arm, 
and  grasped  the  club  with  both  hands.  For 
a  time  it  was  like  a  tug  of  war,  neither  seeming 
to  have  any  advantage;  but  it  soon  became 
apparent  that  he  was  more  than  a  match  for 
Richard  in  brute  force.  If  he  got  the  club, 
the  chance  for  Richard's  life  was  small.  The 
spectators  held  their  breath.  Just  as  the 
club  was  slipping  from  Richard's  grasp,  he 
released  his  hold  upon  it,  and  dealt  the  team 
ster  a  blow  that  staggered  him.  The  blow 
was  returned  with  deadly  effect.  They  were 
both  becoming  exhausted,  both  bleeding  and 
more  or  less  injured.  In  a  moment  more 
Richard  would  be  insensible,  if  not  lifeless; 
but  just  at  that  moment  a  tall,  powerful  man 
sprang  through  the  crowd  and  threw  himself 
between  them — Richard  was  saved.  It  was 
Donald  Lees,  the  Scotchman  whom  he  had 
befriended  on  the  stock  train.  A  police  officer 
with  an  honest  Teutonic  face  appeared  on 
the  scene  and  arrested  both  combatants. 


270  UP  THE  GRADE 

Richard,  being  partly  dazed,  his  fighting 
blood  up,  and  not  knowing  the  penalty  for 
resisting  an  officer,  when  the  policeman  laid 
his  hand  upon  him,  was  ready  to  expend  what 
little  remaining  strength  he  had  in  resistance 
of  what  he  took  as  an  encroachment  on  his 
rights  and  liberty. 

Donald  Lees  shouted:  "How'd  back! 
How'd  back,  Mister  Welliams!  Ye  dare  na 
resist  an  officer  of  the  law!" 

The  teamster,  who  had  been  in  the  hands  of 
the  law  before,  was  as  meek  as  a  lamb.  The 
officer  slipped  a  pair  of  handcuffs  on  Richard's 
wrists,  and  rang  for  the  patrol  wagon. 

The  crowd  rushed  around  them  and  tried 
to  explain  to  the  officer  that  Richard  was  not 
to  blame,  but  he,  knowing  only  his  duty,  said : 

"  Vy  you  speak  mit  me?  I  vas  not  de  judge. 
Off  you  vants  to  oxblain,  you  shall  go  by  de 
bolice  court  und  you  be  vitness,  und  you 
talks  mit  de  judge." 

As  they  were  getting  into  the  patrol  wagon, 
Richard  looked  the  crowd  over  and  saw  not 
a  face  that  he  had  ever  seen  before.  Donald 
Lees  had  disappeared.  Richard  had  no  idea 
what  to  do  or  what  would  become  of  him. 


'  1 


The  crowd  rushed  around  them  and  tried  to  explain  to  the  officer. 


UP  THE  GRADE  271 

He  asked  the  officer  what  would  probably  be 
done  with  him,  to  which  he  replied  in  his 
broken  English  that  he  would  be  put  in 
jail  now  and  tried  probably  Saturday  in 
the  police  court  and  fined  heavily,  or  sent 
to  jail  for  sixty  or  ninety  days,  or  both;  that 
if  he  was  convicted,  he  would  quite  likely 
be  put  to  work  on  the  chain  gang  with  the 
other  drunks  and  fighters.  Richard's  heart 
sank.  He  felt  that  he  was  indeed  a  "  tender 
foot  "  and  had  much  to  learn.  An  hour  ago 
he  was  walking  the  street,  free — now  he  was 
handcuffed,  on  his  way  to  jail,  without  a 
friend.  All  his  plans  for  working  during  the 
summer  vacation  were  dashed  to  the  earth. 
He  thought  of  his  mother — of  Annie.  This 
was  disgrace,  humiliation,  defeat.  His  over 
confident  self-reliance  when  he  started  out  to 
see  the  city  alone  came  back  to  him  with  a 
sense  of  his  own  littleness.  He  knew  that  in 
his  close  application  to  his  work,  he  had  given 
himself  up  to  his  books,  not  only  nights,  but 
Sundays  as  well.  This  had  troubled  him 
before.  In  his  eagerness  to  cultivate  the 
intellectual,  he  had  neglected  the  spiritual. 
If  he  had  identified  himself  with  the  church 


272  UP  THE  GRADE 

and  Christian  people,  he  would  have  friends 
he  could  trust.  He  was  disconsolate — almost 
discouraged. 

On  that  day  and  at  that  hour,  Annie  Reese 
was  on  a  steamboat  among  the  Thousand 
Islands  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  listening  to  Mr. 
Wadsworth.  That  night  she  was  weeping  in 
her  room  alone,  saying:  "I  wonder  where  he 
is  now.  Oh,  if  he  could  only  know  how  I  feel 
toward  him!" 

When  they  arrived  at  the  police  station, 
they  were  taken  before  an  officer  and  their 
cases  booked.  The  handcuffs  were  taken  off 
of  Richard,  and  they  were  asked  if  they  could 
give  bail  for  their  appearance  in  court  Satur 
day  morning.  When  they  answered  that 
they  could  not,  the  officer  was  ordered  to 
commit  them  to  jail.  They  walked  across 
the  corridor,  and  the  iron  bolt  creaked  as  it 
slid  back  with  an  ominous  sound.  The  great 
iron  door  trembled  and  began  to  open,  when 
a  voice  was  heard  speaking  in  a  loud  and 
excited  tone:  "Shut  that  door!  Don't  take 
that  man  in  there.  I  want  to  go  his  bail." 

Richard  saw  Mr.  Cloverdale  and  Donald 
Lees  standing  at  the  desk  of  the  officer  that 


UP  THE  GRADE  273 

they  had  just  left.  Both  men  were  brought 
back,  and  the  officer  asked,  "  Which  one?" 

"I  said  man  I  I  didn't  say  horse-killer. 
Can't  you  see  there  is  only  one  man?  This 
one,"  he  said,  shaking  hands  with  Richard. 
Then  turning  a  most  disdainful  look  upon 
the  teamster,  he  said,  "This  thing  looks  like 
he  might  be  mean  enough  to  kick  a  dog." 

This  comparison  was  frequently  used  by 
Mr.  Cloverdale  to  designate  meanness.  In 
his  great,  humane  heart,  there  was  no  place 
for  the  man  who  was  guilty  of  cruelty  to 
animals.  He  had  been  heard  to  say:  "I've 
a  mighty  sight  more  respect  for  a  horned  toad 
than  I  have  for  the  man  who  would  knowingly 
tread  on  it." 

The  officer  was  at  first  inclined  to  be  rather 
icy,  but  when  the  name  "John  Cloverdale" 
was  given,  he  melted  instantly.  "Oh,  all 
right,  Mr.  Cloverdale,  entirely  satisfactory. 
The  case  is  set  for  ten-thirty  Saturday  morn 
ing,  Mr.  Cloverdale." 

"We'll  be  here,"  he  answered,  and  the 
three  walked  out  together.  Donald  Lees  had 
seen  Mr.  Cloverdale  go  into  a  bank — in  which 
he  was  a  director — a  few  minutes  before,  and 


274  UP  THE  GRADE 

rushed  in  and  called  him  out,  hurriedly  stating 
the  case  to  him.  They  jumped  into  a  carriage 
and,  as  we  have  seen,  arrived  "in  the  nick  of 
time." 

Mr.  Cloverdale  took  Richard  to  the  office 
of  an  attorney  who  was  engaged  to  defend 
him.  After  hearing  the  case,  the  attorney 
said: 

"  If  we  could  know  some  of  those  who  wit 
nessed  the  affair,  I  would  have  no  fear,  but 
if  we  cannot  secure  witnesses,  and  that  police 
man  files  a  complaint  for  '  resisting  an  officer/ 
they  may  make  it  bad  for  us.  We  will  see 
what  we  can  do." 

The  next  day  and  for  several  consecutive 
days  the  following  notice  appeared  in  the 
daily  papers: 

"If  the  persons  who  witnessed  the  brutal 
conduct  of  a  teamster  at  the  foot  of  the  hill 

on  C Street,  Tuesday,  A.  M.,  will  appear 

at  the  police  court  at  10.30  Saturday  morning, 
they  will  confer  a  favor  on  the  young  man 
who  so  heroically  interfered  at  great  risk  to 
himself." 

On  Saturday  morning  the  court  room  was 
crowded  with  volunteer  witnesses,  who  were 


UP  THE  GRADE  275 

all  anxious  to  give  their  testimony.  As  the 
judge  dismissed  the  case,  he  remarked,  "If 
we  had  more  such  citizens,  there  would  be 
less  cruelty  to  animals." 

Mr.  Cloverdale  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
city  on  the  evening  of  the  day  of  the  arrest, 
but  was  on  hand  Saturday  morning  to  see 
Richard  exonerated.  A  father  could  not 
have  shown  a  deeper  interest  in  the  case,  or 
more  satisfaction  at  the  outcome.  In  the 
interim  Richard  visited  many  points  of  interest 
throughout  the  city  with  Donald  Lees  as 
guide.  Their  friendship  for  each  other  deep 
ened  with  acquaintance. 

Donald  Lees  told  Richard  he  was  going  out 
the  next  week  with  a  surveying  party,  who 
were  running  the  preliminary  lines  for  a  rail 
road  to  be  built  to  Los  Angeles.  Through  a 
good  part  of  the  way  the  road  would  be  run 
through  the  great  central  valley  of  the  state ; 
but  in  crossing  the  Tehachapi  mountains 
there  would  be  many  tunnels  and  heavy 
grades,  which  would  tax  the  ability  of  the 
engineers  to  the  limit,  if  indeed  they  found  it 
possible  to  get  through  at  all,  as  it  was  one 
of  the  wildest  and  most  picturesque  spots  in 


276  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  state.  There  was  an  ascent  between 
three  and  four  thousand  feet  in  a  distance — 
by  an  air  line — of  about  twenty  miles. 
Richard  asked  if  he  thought  it  would  be 
possible  for  him  to  get  a  chance  to  work  there. 
Donald  thought  it  was,  and  they  went  at 
once  to  the  office  of  the  Chief  Engineer  of 
the  road,  and  our  "Badger  Boy"  applied 
for  and  secured  his  first  position  in  the  engi 
neer  corps  of  a  railroad.  The  chief  engineer, 
after  asking  him  what  experience  he  had  had 
in  practical  engineering,  and  learning  that  he 
had  had  none,  but  had  just  completed  the 
first  year's  course  of  study,  said :  "  Well,  you 
will  only  be  fit  for  unskilled  labor.  If  you 
are  willing  to  begin  at  the  bottom  and  are  not 
afraid  of  hard  work,  you  may  go  out  with  the 
party." 

Richard  could  hardly  conceal  his  joy.  He 
thanked  him  for  giving  him  the  opportunity 
to  try  to  make  himself  useful. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 
THE  MUSICAL  CONVENTION 

IT  is  nearly  midnight.  The  Reese  family 
are  again  at  the  depot  at  Black  Hawk  Spring, 
waiting  for  the  train.  The  old  station  lamp 
still  hangs  on  the  side  of  the  depot  with  its 
big  hinged  doors  and  smoky  chimneys,  a 
cloud  of  gnats  hovering  around  it;  and  now 
and  then  a  great  black  beetle  bumps  against 
the  glass  and  falls  to  the  platform.  Through 
the  open  window  comes  the  click  of  the  tele 
graph  instruments.  The  night  operator 
comes  out  and  hangs  a  green  lantern  over  the 
track.  A  long  freight  train  comes  from  the 
west,  and,  with  creaking  brakes  and  white- 
lettered  cars,  pulls  into  the  siding.  The 
conductor,  lantern  in  hand,  hurries  into  the 
office  for  his  orders.  A  sharp,  short  whistle 
is  heard  in  the  east.  The  glare  of  a  head 
light,  as  the  midnight  express  swings  around 
the  curve  through  the  cut  and  dashes  up  to 
the  station,  brings  with  it  the  noise  and  bustle 

277 


278  UP  THE  GRADE 

of  commercial  life.  The  mail  bag  flies  across 
the  platform,  the  baggage  is  tumbled  out, 
the  conductor  swings  his  lantern  and  shouts, 
"All — bo'ad,"  and  it  is  gone. 

The  Reese  family  are  again  united.  How 
changed  the  expression  on  their  faces  since 
the  last  time  we  saw  them  here.  When  the 
greetings  are  over  and  they  are  waiting  for 
Owen  to  drive  around  with  the  spring  wagon, 
Uncle  Nate  steps  out  from  the  shadow,  saying: 

"  I  heered  the  little  gal  was  comin'  hum  on 
this  train,  'n  thought  Pd  jest  step  'round  and 
see  'f  she  got  here  all  rite/' 

After  they  had  climbed  into  the  wagon 
and  had  driven  off  toward  the  "white  house 
under  the  oaks,"  Uncle  Nate  walked  slowly 
away,  his  little  black  eyes  twinkling;  and, 
chuckling  to  himself,  as  he  lightly  brushed  a 
certain  spot  on  his  cheek,  said:  "She  ain't 
changed  a  bit.  I  knowed  'twouldn't  spile 
her — to  go  to  the  city." 

When  Annie  got  back  to  her  old  room, 
which  had  been  kept  just  as  she  left  it,  she 
thought  of  the  contrast  between  her  home 
coming  and  that  of  Vivian  Warburton,  and 
her  dear  old  home  and  loved  ones  there  never 


UP  THE  GRADE  279 

seemed  so  precious  to  her  as  now,  Uncle 
Nate  was  right — her  true,  faithful  heart  was 
unchanged.  In  her  personal  appearance  her 
friends  saw  some  change.  She  appeared 
older  and  more  mature.  The  bloom  of  per 
fect  health  had  come  back  to  her  cheeks, 
and  if  that  were  possible,  she  was  more  beau 
tiful  than  ever.  When  she  had  been  home  a 
few  days,  she  called  at  the  Williams  cottage. 
The  children  were  delighted  to  see  her,  and 
so  was  Richard's  mother,  but  Annie  was 
shocked  to  see  that  Mrs.  Williams'  health 
seemed  to  be  failing.  She  was  as  cheerful 
and  uncomplaining  as  ever,  but  admitted 
that  she  was  not  feeling  quite  as  well  as  usual. 
Mrs.  Williams  knew,  as  a  mother,  what 
Richard's  feelings  were  toward  Annie,  and 
instinctively  she  saw  that  Annie  carefully 
avoided  showing  more  than  a  friendly  interest 
in  Richard.  Her  own  good  breeding  forbade 
her  even  making  mention  of  her  son,  until 
Annie  casually  mentioned  his  being  away, 
and  asked  if  she  "heard  from  him  often." 
She  told  her  she  had  a  letter  nearly  every 
week,  but  they  were  usually  short,  as  he  had 
been  very  busy.  She  said  she  had  just  re- 


280  UP  THE  GRADE 

ceived  one  which  Annie  might  read  if  she 
cared  to.  The  very  slight  flush  that  came  and 
went  as  she  was  reading  did  not  escape  the 
mother's  notice.  The  letter  read  as  follows: 

"To  THE  DEAR  ONES  AT  HOME: 

I  have  good  news  to  write.  School  has  closed  for 
the  year,  and  my  examinations  show  that  I  passed  in 
all  my  studies.  While  my  standing  was  not  as  high 
as  I  would  wish,  nor  so  high  as  I  hope  it  will  be  at  the 
close  of  the  next  school  year,  I  am  very  much  pleased 
at  the  result. 

I  have  been  over  the  city  some  and  find  it  a  very 
interesting  place.  The  great  ships  which  come  in 
from  China  and  Japan  are  of  increasing  interest  to  me, 
not  that  I  have  any  desire  to  go  any  further  from  home, 
but  there  is  something  very  fascinating  about  them  for 
me.  To  see  them  unloading  packages,  bales  and  boxes, 
which  were  packed  away  off  in  that  oriental  land  by  a 
people  whose  habits  and  language  are  so  different 
from  our  own,  casts  a  spell  over  one  and  awakens  all 
sorts  of  strange  imaginations. 

I  have  a  friend  whom  I  prize  very  highly,  a  big, 
strong  Scotchman  named  Donald  Lees.  He  is  several 
years  older  than  I,  and  the  interest  he  shows  in  me  is 
at  once  fatherly  and  brotherly.  He  has  the  broad 
accent  of  his  country,  and  the  courage  and  hardiness 
of  the  true  Highlander.  Possibly  the  sprinkling  of 
that  blood  which  flows  in  my  own  veins  in  a  measure 
accounts  for  the  mutual  friendship  that  has  sprung 


UP  THE  GRADE  281 

up  between  us.  He  secured  work  for  me  with  a  sur 
veying  party  where  he  has  a  position.  We  have  our 
camp  outfit  and  clothing  and  shall  start  soon.  I  wish 
you  could  see  us  when  we  get  into  camp.  We  shall 
be  in  the  mountains  before  the  summer  is  over,  and  I 
will  write  you  about  the  scenery,  etc.  If  you  should 
not  hear  from  me  as  often  as  heretofore,  you  will  know 
that  we  are  away  from  post  offices  and  stage  lines  in 
the  mountains. 

With  my  best  love  to  all,  and  a  big  hug  for  Freddie, 
I  am 

Affectionately 

RICHARD." 

When  Annie  finished  the  letter  and  handed 
it  back  with  some  slight  comment,  even  the 
eye  of  Richard's  mother  could  not  detect  any 
interest  in  it,  further  than  that  of  a  friend 
and  schoolmate.  The  letter  did  make  him 
seem  very  near  to  her.  Oh,  how  gladly  would 
she  share  with  him  all  his  hopes  and  trials, 
and  encourage  and  help  him  to  the  victories 
that  she  was  sure  awaited  him.  But  they 
were  separated  now,  probably  forever. 

During  the  summer  the  great  musical  con 
vention  of  the  Welsh  people  met  at  a  not  far 
distant  city,  and  she  attended  it. 

She  met  Miss  Nettie  Jones,  of  White  Wolf 


282  UP  THE  GRADE 

Lake,  there,  and  from  her  learned  all  about 
the  circumstances  of  Richard's  complete  vin 
dication.  Not  knowing  that  Annie  felt  more 
than  a  passing  interest  in  him,  she  talked 
very  freely  about  him,  singing  his  praises  at 
every  opportunity.  Not  as  discreet  as  Annie, 
she  said  that  if  she  could  get  his  address,  she 
would  write  him  a  letter,  giving  some  trivial 
excuse  for  doing  so.  She  told  Annie  she  was 
determined  to  "catch  him"  if  possible,  all 
of  which  did  not  help  Annie  to  "forget/7  as 
she  was  trying  to  do. 

To  these  great  musical  gatherings,  those 
of  that  nationality  came  from  all  parts  of 
the  country.  To  encourage  those  with  natural 
ability  and  bring  out  the  best  talent  among 
their  people — for  the  Welsh  justly  take  great 
pride  in  their  singers — it  is  the  custom  some 
times  to  bestow  a  valuable  prize  upon  those 
who  show  the  greatest  proficiency. 

Annie  was  greatly  surprised  when  the  de 
cision  of  the  adjudicators  was  announced,  to 
learn  that  one  of  the  leading  prizes  had  been 
awarded  to  her.  When  she  accepted  it,  she 
felt  that  it  should  have  gone  to  another.  Her 
parents  felt  highly  elated  and  went  home  very 


UP  THE  GRADE  283 

proud  indeed  of  the  honors  she  had  received. 
The  pleasure  it  gave  them  was  of  much 
greater  satisfaction  to  her  than  the  plaudits 
she  had  received. 

As  the  summer  passed  away,  she  busied 
herself  in  preparation  for  return  to  school, 
and  looked  forward  with  delight  to  her  meet 
ing  with  Vivian,  to  whom  she  had  become 
greatly  attached.  She  received  several  letters 
from  Vincent,  which  she  answered  in  a  friendly 
tone.  He  had  much  to  say  of  his  expected 
visit  to  herself  and  Vivian  at  Thanksgiving 
time,  and  the  grand  times  they  would  have 
during  the  holiday  vacation.  He  said  he  saw 
a  news  item  in  one  of  the  daily  papers  which 
made  mention  of  the  awarding  of  the  prize  to 
her.  He  congratulated  her  and  used  some 
very  extravagant  language  in  his  praise  of 
her  musical  ability.  He  told  her  that  great 
honors  awaited  her,  and  that  she  would  surely 
rise  to  great  prominence  in  the  musical  world, 
and  hoped  she  would  be  ambitious  in  that 
direction  and  make  it  a  profession;  that  the 
American  opera  was  sadly  lacking  in  great 
singers,  and  this  country  was  paying  homage 
to  the  prima  donnas  of  the  old  world.  It 


284  UP  THE  GRADE 

remained  for  one  of  her  talents  to  redeem  the 
musical  name  of  our  own  country  abroad, 
and  he  looked  forward  to  the  time  when  her 
voice  would  be  heard  in  London  and  Paris, 
and  turn  the  heads  of  the  nobility  of  those 
countries.  She  answered  his  letter,  thanking 
him  for  the  interest  he  took  in  her.  Their 
friendship  was  growing,  "but  they  would 
never  be  more  than  good  friends."  If  she 
had  acknowledged  the  truth,  she  would  have 
confessed  that  his  flattery  had  found  a  little 
vein  of  vanity  in  her  nature,  which,  until  then, 
she  did  not  know  was  there. 

One  day  after  the  prizes  were  awarded, 
Eddie  Williams  burst  into  the  house  as  he 
came  home  from  school,  shouting  to  his 
mother,  "Have  you  heard  the  news?" 

"What  news?"  said  his  mother. 

"  It's  in  the  paper,  all  about  it." 

"Well,  what  is  it  in  the  paper?"  she  asked. 

"Annie  got  the  prize!" 

"What  prize  do  you  mean,  Eddie?"  she 
inquired. 

"The  singer's  prize — it's  in  the  paper — 
they  read  it  at  school,  and  the  teacher  said 
Annie  was  going  to  be  a  great  belladonna!" 


UP  THE   GRADE  285 

She  did  not  correct  him,  and  he  was  gone 
before  she  ceased  laughing  at  his  ludicrous 
blunder. 

Nettie  Jones  kept  her  word.  She  met  Mr. 
Yale  one  day  and  from  him  learned  Richard's 
address.  Under  the  pretext  of  inquiring 
where  she  should  send  a  piece  of  music  he  had 
left  there,  she  managed  to  spin  out  quite  a 
newsy  and  interesting  letter.  Among  other 
things,  she  told  of  the  musical  convention 
and  Annie's  success  there ;  and  in  her  girlish, 
thoughtless  way,  mentioned  the  letter  she 
had  received  from  her  and  her  inquiry  about 
him.  This  she  would  not  have  written  had 
she  known  the  effect  it  would  have  on  him: 
It  really  gave  him  another  straw  to  clutch  at 
and  explained  some  things  he  really  did  not 
understand  before.  He  answered  it,  how 
ever,  and  a  friendly  correspondence  sprang 
up  between  them. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 
THE  BARRIER 

MR.  CLOVERDALE  told  Richard  that  the 
surveying  party  would  pass  his  ranch  and 
invited  him  to  take  his  "camp  traps"  and 
go  home  with  him  and  join  the  party  as  they 
passed  there.  This  would  give  him  time  for 
a  short  visit  at  the  ranch.  He  gladly  accepted 
the  invitation. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  station,  they 
found  Rosalind  there,  she  having  driven  over 
to  meet  her  father.  She  was  dressed  in  a 
nobby  outing  suit,  with  high  russet  shoes  and 
leggings  and  a  delicately  woven  Panama  hat, 
somewhat  after  the  sombrero  pattern,  with 
carved  leather  band.  There  was  a  dash  of 
color  in  her  costume  which  blended  with  her 
laughing  black  eyes  and  plump  rosy  cheeks. 

Richard  would  not  have  been  human  had 
he  not  felt  a  flutter  about  the  heart  when  she 
rushed  up  to  him,  seized  him  by  both  hands, 
and  said,  "  And  here  is  our  big,  good  Richard." 

286 


UP  THE  GRADE  287 

Mr.  Cloverdale  said,  "  I  thought  you  would 
be  glad  to  see  him,  so  I  roped  him  and  brought 
him  along." 

As  they  drove  across  the  level  land  which 
stretched  away  in  all  directions,  Mr.  Clover- 
dale  told  him  that  this  rich,  central  valley 
of  the  state  which  they  were  now  in 
and  which  was  almost  as  level  as  a  floor 
contained  more  square  miles  than  all  the  land 
area  of  the  states  of  Massachusetts  and  Ver 
mont;  that  very  few  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  eastern  states  realized  that  the  state  of 
California  contained  a  greater  area  than  the 
nine  states  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  Massa 
chusetts,  Rhode  Island,  Vermont,  Maine, 
New  Hampshire,  Connecticut  and  Ohio;  that 
the  ocean  frontage  of  this  one  state  was  about 
equal  to  that  on  the  Atlantic  from  Boston  to 
Charleston.  He  explained  that  the  two  great 
mountain  ranges  running  north  and  south, 
which  they  could  see  on  either  side,  were  the 
Sierra  Nevada  and  the  Coast  Ranges;  that 
the  Tehachapi  Mountains  stretch  across  from 
east  to  west,  connecting  these  two  great  ranges 
and  forming  a  barrier  in  some  places  more 
than  a  mile  in  height,  which  was  the  dividing 


288  UP  THE  GRADE 

line  between  central  and  southern  California. 

"You  are  going/'  said  he,  "to  help  break 
down  this  barrier  and  find  a  pathway  through 
the  Tehachapi  Mountains  where  it  will  be 
possible  to  build  a  railroad  that  will  unite 
these  two  sections.  It  is  believed  by  many 
to  be  impossible  to  do  so,  but  I  think  it  will 
be  done.  If  successful,  it  will  be  of  untold 
value  in  the  development  of  the  country,  and 
in  opening  another  outlet  to  the  east;  for  in 
the  future  one  or  more  transcontinental  lines 
will  be  built  across  the  southerly,  and  in  time 
others  will  be  thrown  across  the  northerly, 
portion  of  our  country."  Here  he  offered  a 
prediction  which  was  very  liberal  for  one 
whose  home  and  interests  had  always  been  in 
the  north. 

"The  time  will  come,"  he  said,  "when  Los 
Angeles — now  an  almost  unknown  pueblo — 
will  be  the  metropolis  of  the  Pacific  Coast." 

Richard  remarked  that  he  had  discovered 
that  the  impressions  received  from  studying 
the  maps  and  from  seeing  the  country  were 
vastly  different.  "If,"  he  added,  "this  work 
in  which  I  am  to  take  so  small  a  part,  is  to 
become  of  such  historic  interest,  I  am  glad 


UP  THE  GRADE  289 

to  be  identified  with  it,  even  in  a  very  subor 
dinate  capacity/'  And  he  thought  of  what 
Mr.  Yale  had  told  him  and  wondered  at  his 
wisdom  and  foresight. 

The  time  at  the  ranch  flew  by  all  too  fast 
for  him.  As  on  his  first  visit,  Rosalind 
monopolized  nearly  all  of  his  time.  Harvest 
was  on,  and  he  had  an  opportunity  to  see 
some  of  the  machinery  in  operation.  They 
were  in  the  saddle  a  large  part  of  each  day. 
They  were  just  finishing  the  summer  rodeo 
or  "round  up."  He  wondered  that  these 
people,  who  were  so  kind  and  tender  to  their 
animals,  could  witness  the  seeming  cruelty 
of  "marking  and  branding/'  and  he  men 
tioned  this  to  Rosalind.  She  answered  that 
it  was  a  necessary  custom  of  the  country,  and 
like  surgery,  the  more  tender-hearted  and 
sympathetic  the  operator,  the  more  thoroughly 
and  quickly  was  the  operation  performed. 

They  visited  Mr.  Cloverdale's  "Kinder 
garten,"  where  Rosalind  showed  him  the 
handicraft  of  the  people,  who  were  thrifty 
and  industrious.  Their  kind  benefactor  en 
joined  cheerfulness,  temperance  and  honesty 
upon  all  who  were  given  life  membership,  an 


290  UP  THE  GRADE 

honor  which  was  only  conferred  upon  those 
who  had  been  there  for  a  certain  period.  It 
was  conducted  under  a  form  of  self-govern 
ment,  which  gave  an  incentive  to  each  one 
to  earn  official  promotion.  So  the  name 
" Kindergarten"  was  not  so  much  of  a  mis 
nomer,  after  all,  for  they  were  really  primary 
pupils  in  civil  government.  Rosalind  moved 
among  them,  showing  such  genuine  interest 
in  all  of  their  affairs  and  so  much  pride  in 
their  achievements,  that  it  could  be  plainly 
seen  she  had  won  their  hearts,  and  they  would 
gladly  have  crowned  her  as  their  queen. 
Richard  was  touched  by  the  simplicity  and 
love  shown  on  both  her  part  and  theirs.  He 
could  not  but  note  the  contrast  between  her 
sweet,  happy  life  and  the  giddy  belles  of 
fashion  and  society. 

But  the  time  came  for  him  to  leave  these 
happy  scenes.  They  were  walking  in  the 
moonlight  under  the  magnolias  and  crepe 
myrtles,  which  were  then  in  full  bloom. 
Rosalind  said  in  all  her  sweet  innocence,  but 
with  teardrops  sparkling  in  her  eyes,  "  You  said 
when  we  were  better  acquainted  you  would  be 
my  brother,  if  I  still  wanted  you  to — I  do! " 


UP  THE  GRADE  291 

He  could  see  no  harm  in  it,  as  he  knew  the 
difference  between  the  love  of  a  brother  and 
that  of  a  lover,  and  mentally  drawing  the 
distinction,  said: 

"All  right,  you  may  call  me  your  big 
brother." 

Slipping  up  close  beside  him,  in  a  sisterly 
way,  she  slipped  her  hand  in  his,  and 
said: 

"Then  I  am  going  to  kiss  my  big  brother/' 
at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  rousing  smack 
on  the  forehead,  with  a  girlish  laugh  as  if  it 
were  a  great  joke  on  him. 

When  they  went  into  the  house,  she  was 
in  great  glee,  and  without  the  least  show  of 
shyness  or  concealment,  she  said  to  her 
parents:  "Richard  is  going  to  be  my  big 
brother  after  this,  and  I  kissed  him  to  bind 
the  bargain,"  and  her  laugh  rang  out  with  a 
merry  peal. 

"I  am  afraid  he  will  think  our  little  girl 
is  very  rude,"  said  her  mother. 

After  they  had  their  usual  evening  singing 
together  and  he  had  gone  to  his  room,  Mrs. 
Cloverdale  gave  Rosalind  a  little  lecture,  say 
ing:  "My  dear,  you  are  not  a  little  girl  any 


292  UP  THE  GRADE 

more.  You  must  leave  off  some  of  your 
childish  manners/' 

"Well,"  she  said,  "I  guess  big  girls  have  a 
right  to  kiss  their  brothers." 

After  she  had  retired,  the  parents  discussed 
the  subject  quite  freely,  and  Mr.  Cloverdale 
said  : 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  if  he  were  more  than  a 
brother  to  her.  He  is  the  only  young  man 
I  ever  saw  that  I  would  be  willing  to  give 
her  to." 

Richard  left  his  "city  outfit"  in  his  room; 
and  the  next  day,  dressed  in  his  high-laced 
boots  and  camp  suit,  went  away  with  the 
surveyors.  That  was  the  first  night  he  ever 
slept  on  the  ground  in  his  blankets,  with  the 
blue  sky  as  his  roof  and  the  stars  keeping 
silent  watch  over  him,  and  he  slept  the  sleep 
which  comes  only  to  those  of  a  light  heart 
and  clear  conscience. 

In  a  few  days  they  reached  the  base  of  the 
Tehachapi  Mountains  and  made  their  encamp 
ment  in  a  gorge  where  the  level  country 
seemed  to  extend  for  a  distance  into  the 
mountains,  which  surrounded  it  on  all  sides 
but  one,  where  a  narrow  opening  worked  its 


UP  THE  GRADE  293 

winding  way  out  toward  the  great  valley,  and 
a  mountain  brook  wound  among  large  cotton- 
wood  and  sycamore  trees.  This  proved  to 
be  the  opening  where  the  iron  horse  should 
enter  the  mountain  gates,  from  whence  they 
would  carve  a  roadway  through  solid  walls 
of  granite.  This  is  where  the  little  town  of 
Caliente  (the  Spanish  word  for  hot)  now 
stands,  so  named  because  of  the  great  heat, 
being  cut  off  by  the  mountains  from  the  ocean 
breezes. 

Here  Richard  and  Donald  began  work.  At 
first  the  heat  was  very  severe  and  the  work 
wearing,  but  as  they  began  to  work  up  the 
mountains,  the  canyons  and  slopes,  being 
shaded  with  live  oaks,  were  cool,  and  the 
gushing  springs  of  pure  mountain  water 
afforded  camping  places  where  the  heat  and 
dust  of  the  lower  country  were  forgotten. 

Donald  and  Richard  worked  together,  and 
at  night  spread  their  blankets  side  by  side 
under  some  friendly  pine,  where  they  could 
have  their  heart  to  heart  talks  on  subjects  of 
mutual  interest.  Donald  was  a  strict  Pres 
byterian  who  carried  his  religion  with  him; 
and  on  Sunday  they  would  often  climb  to  one 


294  UP  THE  GRADE 

of  the  grand  vistas  along  the  rugged  side  of 
Bear  Mountain  by  some  cool  spring,  and  read 
their  Bibles  and  commune  with  nature  and 
talk  of  nature's  God.  Thus  the  summer  wore 
away.  The  work  that  Richard  was  engaged 
in  afforded  him  but  little  opportunity  to  gain 
information  along  the  line  of  his  studies,  but 
he  had  a  chance  for  observation,  which  he 
improved;  and  he  also  formed  the  acquaint 
ance  of  the  engineer  in  charge,  who,  learning 
that  he  was  a  student,  showed  a  kindly  in 
terest  in  him  and  said  to  him  as  he  was  leaving : 
"  Next  summer  you  may  work  with  me.  We 
shall  be  in  the  most  difficult  part  of  the  grade. 
You  will  get  some  practical  experience,  and 
much  better  pay  than  you  have  had  this  year. 
Get  here  as  soon  as  possible  after  school 
closes." 

Donald  decided  to  go  back  to  the  city  with 
Richard  and  open  a  shop  of  his  own  and  work 
at  his  trade,  which  was  that  of  broom-making. 

They  walked  to  the  railroad,  which  was 
being  extended  into  the  valley.  Richard 
stopped  for  a  day  at  the  Cloverdale  home, 
where  he  "donned  his  city  clothes,"  and,  as 
he  jokingly  said,  again  put  on  his  city  airs. 


UP  THE  GRADE  295 

They  gave  him  a  cordial  welcome,  and  he 
enjoyed  his  short  stay.  But  Rosalind  was 
a  little  more  shy  and  reserved.  She  made  no 
reference  to  the  "big  brother"  this  time,  but 
when  he  left  her  at  the  train  and  she  bade 
him  good-bye,  her  eyes  filled  and  her  hand 
trembled  as  she  said:  "Please  come  and 
spend  the  holidays  with  us  if  you  can."  He 
told  her  he  would  be  glad  to  do  so,  but  would 
have  to  work  if  he  could  find  something  to 
do.  She  started  to  say  something,  but 
checked  herself.  When  he  urged  her  to  tell 
him  what  she  was  about  to  say,  she  seemed 
greatly  agitated,  but  said,  "I  cannot  do  so 
now;  you  may  know  sometime." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

MR.  YALE'S  VISIT 

SOMETHING  unusual  was  going  to  happen 
at  Mr.  Abraham  Yale's.  The  sun  was  not 
yet  up,  but  he  was  astir.  That  was  not 
strange,  for  he  was  always  an  early  riser. 
His  horse  and  top  buggy  were  at  the  door. 
He  was  going  somewhere.  It  must  be  some 
great  distance,  for  he  always  walked  when 
going  no  farther  than  the  Lake.  He  had 
frequent  letters  from  Richard,  who  reported 
to  him  all  of  his  doings,  and  he  occasionally 
answered  several  of  Richard's  by  one  short 
one,  which  always  carried  encouragement 
and  inspiration.  He  had  been  thinking  that 
he  would  go  and  see  the  Williams'  home  and 
write  Richard  how  they  all  were,  knowing 
that  such  news  would  be  interesting  to  him. 
He  was  going  to  Black  Hawk  Spring.  It  was 
one  of  those  warm,  smoky,  Indian  summer 
days,  when  Summer  dons  her  bridal  robe  of 
many  colors  and  steals  away  like  a  truant 

296 


UP  THE  GRADE  297 

maiden  to  meet  her  betrothed,  who  is  coming 
from  the  chilly  north  to  draw  her  to  his  bosom 
and  wrap  her  in  his  mantle  of  holly  and  ever 
green. 

He  takes  the  same  road  over  the  long  hill 
and  through  the  damp  woodlands  that 
Richard  used  to  traverse  in  his  midnight 
visits  to  his  home.  The  sound  of  the  drum 
ming  partidge  comes  from  the  oak  thickets, 
and  squirrels  skip  among  the  branches  of  the 
tall  hickory  trees,  storing  their  winter's  ra 
tions.  Mr.  Yale's  ride  was  an  enjoyable  one, 
made  so  by  the  beauties  of  nature  as  well  as 
the  kindly  mission  that  prompted  it.  He 
found  a  warm  welcome  at  the  Williams' 
cottage,  and  shared  with  them  in  the  pride 
and  rejoicing  over  Richard's  success  in  having 
so  nearly  accomplished  that  which  he  had  so 
long  and  faithfully  worked  for.  The  meeting 
was  a  pleasant  one,  but  Mr.  Yale  was  much 
disturbed  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs.  Williams, 
she  was  so  frail,  and  he  read  symptoms  which 
alarmed  him.  There  were  the  same  flushed 
cheeks  and  hollow  voice  which  he  had  seen 
and  heard  in  one  who  was  very  dear  to  him, 
who  had  gone  away  long  ago  and  left  him 


298  UP  THE  GRADE 

alone.  Before  he  left  he  sought  an  oppor 
tunity  to  question  Mr.  Williams  regarding  it, 
and  learned  from  him  that  her  health  was 
failing.  She  was  beginning  to  cough,  and 
he  was  greatly  worried  about  her.  He  asked 
him  if  they  had  "written  Richard  about  it." 
He  answered,  "Oh,  no!  she  wouldn't  have 
him  know  for  the  world." 

Mr.  Yale  advised  him  to  have  an  eminent 
specialist  see  her  at  once,  which  he  promised 
to  do,  and  also  to  write  Mr.  Yale  what  the 
doctor  advised.  Mr.  Yale  found  them  other 
wise  in  very  comfortable  circumstances.  Mr. 
Williams  had  secured  permanent  and  steady 
employment  in  the  grain  warehouse  on  a 
salary  sufficient  to  meet  the  needs  of  the 
family.  But  his  fears  were  aroused  at  the 
appearance  of  Mrs.  Williams. 

In  due  time  he  received  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Williams,  stating  that  the  doctor  had  said 
that  her  lungs  were  affected,  and  there  was 
cause  for  alarm ;  but  he  thought  it  was  amen 
able  to  treatment,  and  he  had  put  her  on  a 
course  which  they  hoped  would  cure  her. 
Mr.  Yale  had  thought — if  the  report  from  the 
specialist  was  unfavorable — to  write  to 


UP  THE  GRADE  299 

Richard  and  tell  him  all  the  facts,  for  he  did 
not  approve  of  keeping  so  serious  a  matter 
from  him;  but  when  the  report  was  somewhat 
reassuring,  he  decided  to  await  further  devel 
opments,  so  he  wrote  Mr.  Williams  and  asked 
him  to  keep  him  advised  from  time  to  time 
as  to  her  condition. 

This  was  not  all  the  good  Mr.  Yale  did  at 
Black  Hawk  Spring.  Calling  at  the  Reese 
farm  to  see  some  Jersey  stock  that  Mr.  Reese 
had  recently  imported — being  interested  in 
that  line  himself — he  got  into  conversation 
with  him  that  incidentally  led  up  to  his  visit 
at  Mr.  Williams  and  his  acquaintance  with 
Richard.  When  Richard's  name  was  men 
tioned,  Mr.  Reese  said:  "That  Richard 
Williams  is  a  bad  young  man,  not  like  his 
father  and  mother." 

Mr.  Yale  led  him  out  until  he  learned  the 
cause  of  Mr.  Reese  being  so  set  against 
Richard.  Then  he  proceeded  in  unmistakable 
terms  to  tell  what  he  knew  about  him.  They 
saw  at  once  that  for  some  reason  Mr.  Belden 
had  sought  his  ruin,  and  rejoiced  together 
that  his  efforts  had  been  fruitless.  Both 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reese  had  a  very  high  sense  of 


300  UP  THE  GRADE 

justice.  When  they  came  to  learn  the  truth 
and  to  believe  it,  they  deeply  regretted  the 
course  they  had  taken  and  resolved  in  some 
way  to  make  amends  for  it,  although  they 
could  not  now  see  how  it  was  to  be  done. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 
A  CHERISHED  HOPE 

WHEN  Richard  returned  to  the  city  he 
found  his  old  room  at  Mrs.  Watkins7  reserved 
for  him.  Mr.  Watkins  had  a  "new  proposi 
tion  "  on  his  hands.  This  time  it  was  a  copper 
mine.  The  ore  "carried  silver  and  lead  in 
paying  quantities,  with  some  gold.  This  was 
an  old  mine,  from  which  large  fortunes  had 
been  taken,  but  getting  where  water  had 
flooded  the  works,  it  had  been  abandoned 
years  ago.  Now,  with  modern  pumps  and 
other  machinery,  unknown  when  the  mine 
was  abandoned,  it  could  easily  be  pumped 
out  and  be  richer  than  ever."  He  was  now 
selling  stock  to  raise  means  for  the  new  com 
pany  to  buy  and  put  the  modern  machinery 
in  operation.  He  had  been  dabbling  some 
in  real  estate,  and  had  made  a  few  sales  which 
had  brought  him  fair  commissions;  but  that 
was  "too  slow"  for  him,  when  millions  lay 
buried  beneath  a  little  water  which  only 

301 


302  UP  THE  GRADE 

waited  to  be  lifted  by  a  little  enterprise.  A 
little  energy  applied,  and  then  all  they  would 
have  to  do  would  be  to  haul  the  bullion  to 
market  and  carry  their  money  to  the  bank. 
"The  greatest  proposition  I  ever  undertook 
to  promote!"  he  said. 

Richard  went  back  to  his  books  with  re 
newed  life  and  energy.  His  summer's  work 
had  put  him  in  fine  trim  physically,  and  he 
was  happy. 

Donald  Lees  had  opened  his  little  shop  and 
was  doing  well.  He  was  an  expert  at  his 
trade,  and  found  ready  sale  at  a  good  profit 
for  all  the  brooms  he  could  turn  out.  Richard 
visited  him  occasionally,  and  found  that  the 
work  of  pressing  and  sewing  the  brooms  was 
easy  to  learn,  and  he  soon  became  as  expert 
at  it  as  Donald  himself.  When  Donald  was 
rushed,  he  often  dropped  in  and  helped  him 
of  an  evening.  He  found  that  he  could  have 
a  book  before  him  on  a  little  bracket,  which 
he  suspended  from  the  ceiling,  the  work  be 
coming  so  easy  he  could  almost  do  it  auto 
matically.  He  could  work  at  his  studies  and 
sew  brooms  at  the  same  time.  At  first  he 
only  did  it  to  help  Donald ;  but  when  Donald 


UP  THE  GRADE  303 

found  how  many  more  he  could  turn  out  in 
a  day  and  evening  with  his  assistance,  he 
offered  him  a  liberal  price  per  dozen  for  all  he 
could  sew.  So  it  happened  that  Richard  put 
all  his  time  out  of  school  hours  in  the  shop, 
and  very  profitably,  too,  for  both  of  them. 
They  spent  their  Sabbaths  together,  alter 
nating  at  the  evening  service,  going  one  Sun 
day  to  Donald's  church  and  the  next  to  the 
one  Richard  attended. 

One  evening,  as  Richard  was  going  to  the 
shop,  and  was  passing  a  house  which  fronted 
on  the  street,  his  attention  was  attracted  by 
a  peculiar  sound,  between  a  groan  and  a 
scream,  which  came  from  a  half-open  door, 
and  sounded,  as  it  was  intended  to  sound, 
like  some  one  in  distress.  At  the  same  time 
a  young  woman  pulled  the  door  open  and 
asked  him  in.  She  appeared  greatly  dis 
tressed,  and  thinking  her  in  danger,  he  went 
in  unhesitatingly.  She  opened  the  door  off 
the  hall  and  they  stepped  into  a  pleasantly 
furnished  room,  she  closing  and  locking  the 
door  after  them.  She  offered  him  a  chair, 
and  taking  one  herself,  put  her  handker 
chief  over  her  face,  and  burst  into  a  violent 


304  UP  THE  GRADE 

fit  of  weeping.  It  was  not  long,  however, 
before  she  assumed  a  confidential  tone 
and  told  him  that  she  had  seen  him  pass 
the  door  frequently  and  had  learned  to 
listen  for  his  footsteps  and  wait  for  him, 
until  her  love  for  him  had  got  the  better  of 
her,  and  she  felt  that  she  should  die  or  go 
insane  if  she  did  not  make  his  acquaintance. 
She  had  attacked  him  at  the  weakest  point — 
his  sympathy,  which  was  aroused  and  blinded 
him  to  the  trap  that  was  so  cunningly  laid  for 
him.  She  gradually  led  him  on  by  half-con 
cealed  insinuations  and  suggestions  until  his 
adolescent  blood  was  boiling.  Our  Badger 
Boy  is  in  danger.  Has  he  met  his  Waterloo? 
Has  he  forgotten  the  good  words  of  Mr.  Yale? 
His  mother's  prayer? 

"May  his  mind  be  kept  pure  and  his  life 
spotless,  and  his  aspirations  and  ideals  high 
and  noble." 

Mr.  Yale  told  him  that  if  he  cultivated  the 
spiritual  life,  he  would  be  miraculously  led. 
He  has  been  trying  to  shun  temptation  and 
cultivate  the  spiritual  life.  Mr.  Belden's 
theology  is  now  being  put  to  the  test.  Here 
is  a  battle  between  the  spirit  of  evil  and  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  305 

spirit  of  good.  Our  dear  boy  stands  where 
every  young  man  must  stand  at  some  time 
in  his  life.  Will  he  leave  that  place  a  stronger 
and  better  man,  or  will  he  take  the  road  that 
leads  toward  hell?  She  was  standing  before 
him  in  her  voluptuous  sham  beauty.  He 
arose  and  walked  toward  her.  She  was  ner 
vously  crumpling  something  in  her  hand. 
He  reached  out  and  took  it.  It  was  a  small 
card.  He  unfolded  it,  and  holding  it  to  the 
light,  read  it.  She  said : 

"Oh,  that's  nothing.  One  of  the  Mission 
girls  gave  it  to  me." 

He  said  coolly,  "I  guess  it  was  intended 
for  me,"  as  he  put  it  in  his  pocket,  unlocked 
the  door  and  walked  out.  It  read : 

"Be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I  will  give 
thee  a  crown  of  life" 

As  he  went  out  into  the  pure  evening  air, 
his  heart  swelled  with  gratitude  at  his  provi 
dential  escape.  He  walked  with  a  firmer 
step,  his  head  erect.  He  could  look  all  the 
world  in  the  face.  He  had  not  begun  to  sow 
"wild  oats"  yet. 

With  so  much  to  occupy  his  mind,  the  time 
passed  quickly  by.  He  spent  each  summer 


306  UP  THE  GRADE 

vacation  in  the  field,  gaining  valuable  practi 
cal  experience  and  earning  good  wages.  Dur 
ing  the  terms  of  school  all  his  spare  time  was 
given  to  his  work  with  Donald.  He  was  well 
along  in  his  last  year,  when  something  oc 
curred  which  brought  great  sorrow  to  him  and 
took  all  the  joy  out  of  his  life,  and  for  a  time 
left  him  undecided  as  to  his  future  course, 
as  it  might  be  necessary  for  him  to  change 
all  his  plans. 

In  February  he  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Yale, 
telling  of  the  sickness  of  his  mother;  how  the 
doctor  had  thought  for  a  time  that  her  malady 
would  yield  to  treatment,  but  now  he  could 
hope  to  do  no  more  than  temporarily  check 
the  ravages  of  the  disease.  She  was  beyond 
the  power  of  medicine  to  cure.  If  it  were 
possible  for  her  to  have  a  complete  change, 
to  go  where  she  could  have  rest  and  outdoor 
life  under  favorable  climatic  and  mental  con 
ditions,  there  was  a  hope,  a  faint  hope  of  her 
recovery;  but  he  could  not  hold  out  any 
great  encouragement,  even  under  the  most 
favorable  conditions.  Mr.  Yale  said  that  he 
"felt  it  his  duty  to  tell  him  the  worst,"  for 
he  knew  that  "his  plans  for  himself,  under 


UP  THE  GRADE  307 

such  circumstances,  would  be  only  secondary." 
He  (Mr.  Yale)  could  not  advise  him.  "If 
financial  assistance  would  help  in  any  way," 
he  would  be  "glad  to  advance  any  sum  neces 
sary/'  and  wait  for  any  length  of  time  that 
he  might  need  for  its  reurn.  There  would 
be  no  need  of  immediate  action,  as  the  doctor, 
who  had  written  to  Mr.  Yale,  said  she  was 
better  off  where  she  was  during  the  winter. 
If  she  were  to  go  away,  she  should  start  in 
the  spring  or  early  summer,  after  the  weather 
was  settled.  If  left  there,  she  would  have  to 
battle  with  a  long,  lingering  disease,  which 
would  surely  take  her  in  the  end.  At  first 
Richard  felt  inclined  to  drop  his  work,  now 
so  nearly  finished,  and  go  to  her  at  once. 
The  expenses  of  the  trip  would  leave  him  but 
little.  He  knew  his  father  was  unable  to  send 
her  away,  and  he  doubted  whether  she  would 
consent  to  go.  He  knew  that,  had  it  not 
been  for  Mr.  Yale,  he  would  never  have  been 
told  of  her  condition.  He  was  tormented 
beyond  endurance  by  the  desire  to  fly  to  her 
and  do  something  to  save  her.  He  could  not 
sleep  or  eat.  What  could  he  do?  His  own 
plans  were  as  nothing.  He  had  hoped  to  get 


308  UP  THE  GRADE 

established  and  go  home  and  have  a  visit, 
and  meet  Annie,  if  she  were  still  free.  He  was 
as  true  and  loyal  to  her  as  ever,  though  he 
looked  upon  his  love  for  her  as  selfish — quite 
likely,  hopeless.  He  had  found  it  sweet  to 
cherish  a  hope,  though  a  forlorn  one.  He 
could  give  that  up,  if  necessary,  but  he  would 
surely  love  her  always.  He  had  at  times 
thought  of  Rosalind  and  wondered  if  he  ever 
could  love  her,  should  he  come  to  know  that 
Annie  had  never  seriously  cared  for  him. 
He  dismissed  the  thought.  Such  a  thing  was 
unthinkable.  There  was  more  comfort  in 
the  thought  of  carrying  his  sorrow  through 
life  alone,  and  giving  himself  and  his  energies 
to  the  comfort  of  his  mother  and  the  family. 
He  would  give  Bessie  and  the  boys  a  better 
chance  than  he  had  had.  Now  that  he  might 
be  bereft  of  his  mother,  the  thought  of  such 
a  possibility  drove  all  others  from  his  mind. 
What  could — what  should  he  do?  That  once 
decided,  he  would  act  promptly  and  let  all 
plans  for  himself  or  his  future  drop  until  he 
had  done  all  that  was  possible  to  do  for  her. 
He  would  go  to  sleep  thinking  of  her.  He 
could  see  her  pale,  fading  face  constantly 


UP  THE  GRADE  309 

before  his  eyes.  He  would  dream  of  her  and 
wake  to  find  his  pillow  wet  with  tears.  Now 
that  he  was  so  soon  to  be  in  a  good,  salaried 
position,  when  he  could  make  her  life  easy 
and  comfortable,  after  all  these  years  of 
patient  toil  and  cheerful  self-denial,  she  was 
to  pass  from  his  sight  forever.  He  had 
prayed  long  and  earnestly  for  guidance.  He 
had  written  and  told  her  he  was  thinking  of 
coming  home.  He  was  awaiting  an  answer, 
still  undecided,  but  keeping  on  at  his  work 
day  and  night,  working  later,  and  denying 
himself  everything  but  the  plainest  food.  His 
work  and  the  awful  worry  and  suspense  were 
wearing  upon  him.  Donald  saw  it  and  cau 
tioned  him.  His  sunken  eyes  and  pale  face 
worried  his  friend,  who  began  to  have  grave 
fears  lest  his  health  would  break.  But 
Richard  worked  on,  thoughtless  of  himself, 
and  prayed  that  he  might  be  guided  aright, 
and  his  precious  mother  might  be  spared. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 
THE  SCHEMING  MOTHER 

ANNIE  went  back  to  school.  The  meeting 
with  Vivian  was  a  joyous  one  for  both.  They 
were  inseparable.  At  Thanksgiving  time 
Vincent  came  to  see  them,  and  the  few  days 
he  spent  with  them  were  happy  ones.  He 
took  them  everywhere  that  Vivian  expressed 
a  wish  to  go.  Annie  enjoyed  it.  What 
young  lady  does  not  enjoy  going  to  all  of  the 
most  popular  places  of  amusement,  such  as 
concerts,  lectures  and  the  opera?  This  last 
was  Vincent's  greatest  delight.  It  was  in 
the  height  of  the  season,  and  the  city  was  one 
where  the  best  could  be  seen.  Annie  did  not 
know  it,  but  Vincent  had  method  in  his  plans. 

When  Mrs.  Warburton  came  to  understand 
that  Vincent  had  set  his  heart  on  winning 
Annie,  instead  of  opposing  him,  she  was  deter 
mined  that  his  wishes  should  be  gratified ;  and 
she  called  a  consultation  of  the  three — the 
mother,  son  and  daughter — and  laid  before 

310 


UP  THE  GRADE  311 

them  a  scheme,  which,  if  it  could  be  carried 
out,  would  remove  every  objection.  She 
was,  as  we  have  said,  a  selfish,  scheming 
woman.  Her  plan  was  a  simple  one,  viz: 
to  make  Annie  over  to  suit  the  conditions 
necessary  to  make  her  acceptable  to  their 
set.  She  had  great  talent;  this  talent  must 
be  cultivated.  She  must  become  so  great 
an  artist  and  make  herself  so  prominent,  that 
her  plain  birth  and  common  family  would  be 
lost  sight  of.  Under  the  blazing  splendor 
of  her  own  glory,  the  world  and  society  would 
look  upon  her  as  a  great  catch  for  the  son  of 
any  family  of  wealth.  Some  of  the  sons  of 
the  great  families  would  seek  her  hand,  and 
then  Vincent  would  come  in  and  carry  off 
the  prize. 

The  plan  met  the  approval  of  her  children. 
There  was  just  enough  of  the  scheming  in  it 
to  make  a  plot  that  suited  Vincent's  adven 
turous  spirit.  He  would  rather  take  the 
hazard  of  losing  a  prize  than  gain  it  too 
easily,  and  then  he  did  not  want  to  antagonize 
his  mother  or  jeopardize  his  birthright  as  the 
heir  to  the  Warburton  estate.  Vivian  was 
too  innocent  to  see  anything  wrong  in  it,  if 


312  UP  THE  GRADE 

that  was  the  best  way  to  have  Vincent  make 
Annie  her  sister.  So  they  all  set  themselves 
to  the  task  of  making  Annie  ambitious  to 
become  a  great  prima  donna.  None  of  them 
had  a  doubt  that  she  would  marry  Vincent 
at  the  asking.  Vincent's  letter,  so  full  of 
flattery,  which  we  have  quoted,  was  in  line 
with  his  mother's  scheming.  They  all  agreed 
that  it  would  take  time,  but  had  no  doubt 
of  the  ultimate  success  of  their  plot. 

Mrs.  Warburton  proposed  to  change  their 
program  for  the  holidays  and  spend  that 
vacation  together  in  New  York  City,  where 
Annie  should  appear  as  their  guest.  They 
would  see  that  it  "leaked  out/'  as  a  secret, 
that  this  beautiful  and  accomplished  stranger, 
who  was  the  guest  of  the  Warburtons,  was  a 
prospective  prima  donna,  who,  for  professional 
reasons,  did  not  care  to  have  her  identity 
known  at  that  time.  This  in  some  way  did 
"leak  out,"  and  society  was  all  agog  over 
such  a  rare  bit  of  gossip.  They  sought  an 
introduction  and  paid  her  every  attention, 
but  Annie  was  unconscious  of  the  real  cause, 
thinking  it  was  on  account  of  those  who  were 
entertaining  her  rather  than  as  an  honor  to 


UP  THE  GRADE  313 

her.  In  her  heart  she  was  too  much  of  a 
home  body  to  really  enjoy  such  notoriety, 
but  through  deference  to  their  feelings  she 
did  not  say  so.  She  went  with  them  wherever 
they  were  pleased  to  take  her  and  entered 
into  the  spirit  of  it  all,  not  knowing  that  she 
was  the  victim  of  a  deep-laid  scheme.  She 
was  out  of  her  natural  element,  while  seemingly 
as  happy  as  they.  She  often  thought  that 
one  day  at  her  dear  old  home  would  be  worth 
an  age  of  the  life  she  lived  in  those  few  days. 
She  even  found  herself  many  times  thinking 
that  a  word  of  love  from  Richard  (if  that 
could  only  be  for  her),  coming  from  his  honest, 
sincere  heart,  would  be  sweeter  than  all  the 
flattery  and  praise  of  a  multitude  of  such 
shallow,  senseless  beings  as  those  who  flitted 
in  gauze  and  laces  around  the  great  hotels 
of  the  city. 

The  Warburtons  thought  she  was  rapidly 
becoming  accustomed  to  her  new  environ 
ment.  She  did  not  disabuse  their  minds, 
because  of  her  respect  for  their  feelings  and 
her  gratitude  for  their  efforts  to  entertain 
her.  When  she  saw,  by  their  frequent  sug 
gestions,  that  it  would  please  them  to  have 


314  UP  THE  GRADE 

her  take  up  operatic  music,  she  did  so,  think 
ing  thus  to  reward  them  for  their  kindness, 
which  she  supposed  was  actuated  by  the  best 
of  motives.  Mrs.  Warburton  congratulated 
Vincent  and  Vivian  on  the  great  success  of 
their  scheme,  saying :  "  When  once  she  enters 
that  field,  she  will  become  infatuated  with  it 
and  her  rise  will  be  rapid.  Vincent  will  not 
have  to  wait  many  years  for  his  greatest 
hopes  to  be  realized.  We  can  entertain  her 
now  in  our  home  as  a  rising  musical  star,  and 
nothing  will  be  thought  of  it.  Vivian  can 
bring  her  home  with  her  now  as  often  as  she 
likes;  the  more  she  becomes  acquainted  with 
our  way  of  living,  and  attached  to  us,  the 
better  it  will  be  for  our  plans  and  the  easier 
to  carry  them  out." 

During  her  school  years,  Annie  often  visited 
the  Warburton  home,  and  when  there — being 
treated  as  one  of  the  family — she  came  to 
think  of  them  almost  as  though  she  did  belong 
to  the  household.  She  had  given  much  study 
in  the  line  which  the  Warburtons  desired  her 
to,  and  they  talked  much  of  her  debut.  She 
had  not  decided  to  become  a  professional 
singer;  but  after  she  had  graduated,  which 


UP  THE  GRADE  315 

would  be  in  a  few  months  now,  she  would  go 
home  for  a  good,  long  rest;  then  she  would 
go  back  to  New  York  and  devote  a  year  or 
two  to  music.  If  she  developed,  as  the  War- 
burtons  seemed  to  think  she  would,  then  she 
might  consent  to  appear  before  the  public. 

Vincent  had  never  hinted  at  anything  more 
than  friendship,  but  he  was  very  attentive 
to  her  and  had  shown  himself  a  good  friend, 
and  as  such,  she  liked  him.  She  often  found 
herself  wondering  whether  he  really  cared  for 
her  in  a  greater  sense  than  he  had  ever  openly 
spoken  to  her.  There  had  been  many  things 
which  would  make  it  appear  that  he  did. 
There  were  several  young  men  among  her 
acquaintances  who  were  also  attentive  to  her, 
whose  advances  she  would  not  dare  to  encour 
age  in  the  least  had  she  felt  so  inclined,  for 
Vincent  guarded  her  with  a  jealous  eye,  as 
did  also  Vivian.  As  the  school  year  drew  to 
a  close  Annie  and  Vivian  were  busy  preparing 
for  their  graduation  and  the  commencement 
exercises.  Vincent  had  graduated  the  year 
before  and  was  going  abroad  for  a  year  to 
acquire  certain  finishing  touches  and  "Euro 
pean  polish/ '  which  his  mother  declared  was 


316  UP  THE  GRADE 

all  he  needed  to  make  a  finished  gentleman 
of  him.  His  parents  wanted  him  to  go  earlier 
in  the  year,  and  the  date  was  almost  decided 
upon  at  different  times,  but  he  had  put  it  off 
from  time  to  time  under  one  pretext  or 
another,  the  last  one  being  that  he  "must 
remain  until  his  little  sister  graduated."  He 
would  go  immediately  after  those  exercises 
were  over. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reese  were  to  come  east  and 
visit  relatives  and  acquaintances  who  lived 
at  and  near  Utica.  They  would  be  there  at 
commencement  and  Annie  would  go  home 
with  them.  When  the  long-looked-for  day 
arrived,  they  were  there  and  so  were  the  War- 
burton  family.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
Annie's  mind  that  her  father  and  mother 
could  be  looked  down  upon  by  anyone.  She 
did  not  think  they  would  enjoy  city  life  and 
its  arbitrary  customs,  and  for  the  sake  of 
their  feelings  would  not  have  thought  of  in 
troducing  them  to  it,  but  she  was  overjoyed 
at  the  thought  of  having  them  there.  The 
patronizing  air  with  which  Mrs.  Warburton 
received  them  was  noticed  by  her,  and  her 
feelings  were  hurt  by  it;  but  this  was  made 


UP  THE  GRADE  317 

up  for  by  the  respectful  attention  paid  them 
by  Vincent  and  Vivian — Vincent  through 
diplomacy,  and  Vivian  through  honesty  of 
heart.  When  Mrs.  Warburton  unbent  so 
much  as  to  invite  them  to  her  hotel,  she  poured 
into  their  ears  praises  of  Annie,  and  the  great 
possibilities  which  awaited  her  in  the  musical 
world.  The  pride  of  the  good  old  people  was 
touched,  and  they  agreed  with  her  that  Annie 
should  go  to  New  York  and  finish  her  musical 
education.  Mrs.  Reese  told  Mrs.  Warburton 
in  her  own  way  that  while  their  manner  of 
living  was  different  from  her  own,  yet  they 
were  abundantly  able  to  give  their  daughter 
every  advantage  of  which  she  might  wish  to 
avail  herself.  This  pleased  Mrs.  Warburton,  and 
she  thought  that  western  farmers  were  not 
so  bad  after  all,  and  Mrs.  Reese  went  home 
loud  in  her  praise  of  "that  splendid  lady." 

Annie's  parents  could  not  rest  until  they 
had  relieved  their  minds  of  the  great  burden 
that  weighed  so  heavily  upon  them— their 
unjust  treatment  of  Richard.  They  told  her 
all  they  had  learned  from  Mr.  Yale,  and  cer 
tain  other  and  more  recent  information  that 
they  had  concerning  him,  which  had  raised 


318  UP  THE  GRADE 

him  very  much  in  their  opinion.  They 
thought  that  if  she  as  a  young  girl  had  had 
any  serious  liking  for  him,  she  had  outgrown 
and  long  since  forgotten  it.  In  fact,  Annie 
herself  had  nearly  reached  that  conclusion 
before  they  brought  the  subject  up  in  such 
an  unexpected  manner;  but  now,  at  the  men 
tion  of  his  name,  a  flood  of  recollections  came 
upon  her,  and  she  recalled  that  brave  and 
manly  personality,  whose  indomitable  and 
sunny  spirit  was  already  taking  him  in  great 
strides  to  an  honorable  position  in  life,  and 
she  knew  that  her  love  for  him  was  only 
lying  dormant  ready  to  be  awakened  at  the 
merest  allusion  to  him,  and  she  felt  a  vague 
jealousy  that  others — strangers — could  talk 
freely  about  him  and  enter  into  his  life,  while 
she  could  not.  When  her  parents  suggested 
that  she  write  to  Richard  in  acknowledgment 
of  their  mistake,  in  a  rather  faint  voice  she 
advised  them  to  wait  until  he  came  home, 
and  then  they  could  tell  him  themselves,  as 
he  had  predicted  they  would  do.  She  told 
herself  that  her  rudeness  had  probably  caused 
him  to  give  up  all  thought  of  her,  and  as  he 
had  never  made  any  attempt  to  communi- 


UP  THE  GRADE  319 

cate  with  her,  she  would  not  force  herself 
upon  his  attention  by  writing  to  him. 

When  she  was  alone  in  her  room  that  night, 
she  lived  the  past  all  over  again.  Her  years 
at  school  had  been  comparatively  happy,  for 
had  she  not  been  advancing  in  knowledge — 
had  she  not  attained  great  success  already  in 
her  musical  career?  For  what  end?  To  be 
worshipped  and  flattered  for  her  ability  to 
entertain,  to  receive  the  plaudits  of  strangers, 
to  be  among  them  and  yet  not  of  them?  To 
have  everything  but  the  most  essential  thing — 
love — the  love  of  a  strong  and  true  man, 
with  whom  she  could  be  herself,  and  to  whom 
she  could  open  her  heart  and  always  find 
entire  sympathy  there.  But  it  was  not  to  be. 
She  must  adapt  herself  to  the  life  that  was 
opening  before  her,  and  try  to  find  consola 
tion  in  other  pursuits  and  relations.  She 
would  resolutely  turn  from  the  past  and  set 
her  mind  to  enjoy  the  opportunities  of  the 
present.  Nevertheless,  she  went  to  sleep  that 
night  weeping  over  the  mistakes  that  her 
parents  and  she  had  made,  which  had  lost 
Richard  to  her  forever. 


CHAPTER  XL 
AT  DEATH'S  DOOR 

DURING  his  school  years  in  California, 
Richard  had  made  two  firm  and  lasting  friends, 
both  men  of  sterling  character  and  unswerv 
ing  integrity.  Both  had  touched  his  life  very 
closely  and  been  identified  with  his  labors. 
One  of  them  was,  of  course,  honest  Donald 
Lees,  with  whom  he  had  labored  many  a  long 
evening,  and  whose  initiative  in  establishing 
a  business,  humble  though  it  was,  had  fur 
nished  in  part,  the  means  to  carry  Richard 
through  school.  The  other,  Mr.  Ralph  Leslie, 
had  found  him  employment  with  the  railroad 
company,  which  had  provided  the  other  part 
of  the  necessary  funds  to  complete  his  educa 
tion. 

This  was  not  all  Mr.  Leslie  had  done.  He 
is  the  engineer  whose  acquaintance  Richard 
made  near  the  close  of  his  first  summer  va 
cation  and  who  had  promised  him  work  the 
next  summer.  He  had  found  Richard  work 
320 


UP  THE  GRADE  321 

at  increasing  wages,  as  his  efficiency  increased 
from  year  to  year,  and  he  had  freely  drawn 
upon  his  own  fund  of  information,  technical 
and  practical,  and  imparted  to  him  that 
which  was  most  needed,  and  at  the  time  when 
it  would  do  him  the  most  good  in  connectior 
with  his  studies.  So  when  Richard  graduated, 
he  would  have  a  permanent  position  awaiting 
him  which  was  very  remunerative  and  which 
gave  excellent  opportunity  for  promotion, 
with  the  possibility  of  rising  to  high  official 
relations  with  some  rich  and  prosperous  cor 
poration. 

Mr.  Leslie  was  about  three  years  older  than 
Richard,  and,  like  him,  had  come  up  by  his 
own  efforts.  Their  relations  were  as  close 
and  confidential  as  were  those  of  Richard  and 
Donald. 

Richard  had  visited  the  Cloverdale  home 
as  often  as  his  work  would  permit.  These 
visits,  which  were  usually  made  on  his  way 
to  and  from  the  mountains,  were  the  only 
real  recreation  he  had  during  the  days  of  his 
busy  school  life.  He  had  often  told  them  of 
his  friend,  Mr.  Leslie,  and  recounted  many 
incidents  which  showed  his  high  and  noble 


322  UP  THE  GRADE 

traits  of  character.  They  asked  Richard  to 
bring  him  with  him  on  some  of  his  visits, 
an  invitation  which  Mr.  Leslie  accepted. 
Richard's  demeanor  towards  Rosalind  had 
been  so  brotherly  and  discreet  that  she 
accepted  the  terms  of  their  compact  as  the 
true  basis  of  their  relations.  When  she  and  Mr. 
Leslie  met,  it  soon  became  apparent  to  Richard 
that  his  friend  could  no  longer  truly  say  that 
he  had  never  yet  met  the  fair  one  that  he 
thought  was  intended  for  him.  And  so  it 
proved,  and  when  their  engagement  was  an 
nounced,  there  was  no  one  who  more  heartily 
congratulated  them  both  than  Richard. 

Poor  Donald  Lees  had  a  story,  which  he 
told  Richard  after  they  had  long  been 
acquainted.  When  he  was  a  boy,  with  his 
father  in  the  Grampian  Mountains,  he  had  a 
playmate,  the  daughter  of  a  shepherd  who 
lived  near  them,  little  Amy  Moore;  and  they 
had  spent  their  sunny  childhood  together 
among  the  rocks  and  crags  of  their  native 
hills.  Their  friendship  had  grown  into  a  love 
that  was  as  sacred  and  holy  as  their  sturdy 
Scotch  character  was  true  and  steadfast.  On 
his  part,  it  was  little  short  of  worship.  The 


UP  THE  GRADE  323 

father  of  Amy  Moore  died  when  she  was  an 
infant,  and  her  stepfather  was  cruel  to  her 
mother  and  herself.  When  Donald  asked  for 
Amy,  the  stepfather  declared  that  she  could 
never  marry  him.  He  had  promised  her 
when  a  child  to  a  nephew,  who  was  at  that 
time  a  soldier  in  the  service  of  his  country. 
He  would  be  home  in  a  few  years  to  claim  his 
bride.  So,  with  broken  heart,  Amy  had 
given  Donald  up,  and  begged  him  to  go  away 
to  some  foreign  country.  It  would  be  easier 
for  both.  The  story — told  in  his  broad  dia 
lect  between  suppressed  sobs  that  shook  his 
iron  frame  —  was  a  most  pathetic  one. 
Richard  asked  him  if  the  law  would  not  pro 
tect  her  after  she  became  of  age  and  give  her 
the  right  to  exercise  her  own  will.  He  said 
it  would,  but  her  sense  of  duty  and  fear  that 
her  mother  would  suffer  if  she  married  Donald 
were  stronger  in  her  mind  than  the  laws  of 
the  land.  She  told  him  she  would  never 
marry  the  soldier — she  would  die  first;  so  to 
make  it  easier  for  her  he  had  come  away 
to  this  country.  The  last  he  heard,  she  was 
still  with  her  mother.  The  soldier  had  come 
and  demanded  her  hand  in  marriage,  and  she 


324  UP  THE  GRADE 

had  told  him  he  must  "bide  a  wee,"  and  had 
managed  to  hold  him  off  from  year  to  year, 
while  Donald  waited  and  worshipped  across 
the  sea. 

When  the  letter  came  from  Richard's 
mother,  it  was  full  of  hope  and  cheerfulness. 
She  urged  him  to  stay  at  his  work  and  not 
worry  about  her.  She  did  not  believe  there 
was  anything  so  serious  in  her  case.  She 
admitted  that  she  was  not  as  strong  as  she 
used  to  be,  and  could  not  do  much  work,  but 
the  warm  days  of  spring  would  soon  come, 
the  birds  would  come  back  and  the  flowers 
would  be  blooming  as  sweetly  as  ever;  then 
she  would  be  out  in  the  air  and  sunshine  and 
gather  strength  and  be  herself  again.  She 
said  Bessie  had  grown  to  be  a  large,  strong 
girl,  and  took  much  of  the  care  of  the  house 
upon  herself,  so  that  she  had  very  little  to 
do  but  get  well.  He  might  be  assured  that 
she  would  take  good  care  of  herself,  and  be 
there  to  welcome  him  when  he  returned. 

Richard  saw  in  the  letter  itself  a  symptom 
of  that  deceitful  malady  which  lures  its 
victims  on,  while  sapping  their  life  away. 
There  was  nothing  reassuring  in  it.  The  very 


UP  THE  GRADE  325 

writing  showed  feebleness.  The  white  pages, 
closely  written  in  her  delicate,  even  hand, 
seemed  to  reflect  her  pale,  emaciated  face. 
He  walked  the  floor  until  daylight  began  to 
show  in  the  east,  then  laid  down  without 
undressing.  With  a  heavy  heart,  he  prayed, 
as  he  always  did,  that  he  might  have  divine 
guidance  in  these  trying  days.  He  then 
dropped  off  into  a  peaceful  sleep.  He  had 
laid  his  burden  at  the  feet  of  Him  who  said : 
"Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden." 

He  arose,  took  his  morning  bath,  had  his 
breakfast,  and  started  for  the  office  of  the 
chief  engineer,  who  had  given  him  work  with 
the  surveying  party. 

Since  he  had  heard  of  his  mother's  illness, 
the  thought  of  taking  her  to  the  mountains 
had  often  come  to  him  and  had  as  often  been 
cast  aside  by  some  objections  which  came 
up,  making  it  appear  impossible.  How  could 
she,  a  frail,  feeble  little  woman,  live  amid 
such  rough  surroundings?  He  had  not  seen 
a  woman  in  the  camp  at  the  head  of  the 
works  where  he  was  employed.  Of  all  places 
in  the  world,  that  would  be  the  last  to  which 


326  UP  THE  GRADE 

he  would  think  of  taking  her  if  she  were  well, 
much  less  in  her  present  condition.  His 
mother  in  a  camp?  The  very  thought  was 
so  incompatible  with  his  tender  feelings  for 
her  that  he  had  not  seriously  considered  it 
for  a  moment.  Why,  as  he  felt  toward  her, 
he  would  want  to  take  her  to  some  spot  where 
a  heavenly  and  peaceful  quiet  reigned — where 
the  surroundings  were  in  perfect  accord  with 
her  refined  taste  and  gentle  nature.  There 
was  nothing  too  good  for  her. 

Today  these  objections  all  flew  away  before 
they  had  taken  shape.  He  would  take  her 
with  him  where  he  could  himself  care  for  her, 
where  the  air  and  sunshine,  the  pure  moun 
tain  spring  water,  Nature's  own  remedies, 
would  restore  her  to  health.  What  if  the 
camp  was  rough,  the  accommodations  meagre, 
would  not  he  be  there  to  protect  and  shield 
her?  How  would  he  get  her  there?  Why, 
he  would  carry  her  in  his  arms  if  need  be. 
How  he  would  love  to  do  it.  As  it  was  re 
vealed  to  him  today,  there  was  no  spot  on 
earth  where  the  conditions  were  more  favor 
able,  the  air  purer,  the  sunshine  brighter  than 
up  there  in  the  mountains,  in  God's  own 


UP  THE  GRADE  327 

sanitarium.  Had  he  not  seen  men  go  up 
there  whose  health  had  broken  from  office 
confinement  and  overwork,  with  the  hectic 
flush  on  their  cheeks,  with  wasted  form  and 
hollow  cough,  almost  the  death  rattle  in  their 
throats;  and  sleep  out  there  in  the  open  air 
under  the  pines,  breathing  that  rarefied  air, 
and  come  out  the  picture  of  robust  health? 
Why,  had  he  not  seen  this  before?  It  was 
all  so  clear  to  him  now.  He  felt  new  life, 
new  hope — all  the  world  seemed  changed  to 
him.  He  almost  flew  to  the  general  offices, 
where  he  found  the  chief  engineer.  He  had 
met  him  quite  often  and  needed  no  introduc 
tion.  After  the  usual  morning  greetings,  he  said : 

"  You  know  I  graduate  this  year,  and  doubt 
less  remember  that  I  have  a  position  in  your 
department.  I  want  to  go  out  immediately 
after  school  closes.  Can  I  work  this  summer 
in  the  Tehachapi  Pass?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Leslie  has  asked  for  you.  There 
will  be  some  very  interesting  work  there  this 
year — the  greatest  feat  in  modern  engineering. 
It  will  attract  much  attention,  and  be  known 
the  world  over  as  the  'Tehachapi  Loop/ 
You  will  find  these  an  interesting  study," 


328  UP  THE  GRADE 

and  he  threw  down  a  lot  of  maps  and  drawings. 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  study  them,"  said 
Richard,  "but  just  now  I  have  a  matter  on 
my  mind  that  interests  me  more  deeply  than 
all  others,"  and  he  told  him  the  whole  story 
of  his  mother's  illness — the  report  of  the 
specialist,  and  his  desire  to  take  her  with  him. 

The  idea  was  such  a  novel  one,  and  there 
was  so  much  pathos  in  the  way  it  was  told 
that  the  chief  was  deeply  touched  by  it. 
Richard  had  not  omitted  to  state  that  neither 
he  nor  his  father  had  the  means  to  give  her 
a  change  of  climate  unless  it  could  be  done 
in  this  way;  and  he  did  not  know  any  better 
place  for  her  that  could  be  had  at  any  expense 
even  if  they  had  the  money. 

"It  is  a  good  idea  and  perfectly  feasible, 
if  you  can  get  her  up  there,"  was  the  en 
couraging  answer. 

"That  will  not  be  difficult,"  said  Richard 
with  enthusiasm.  "I  can  carry  her  any 
where.  She  is  as  light  as  a  feather.  The 
train  will  be  running  to  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tains.  I  will  get  her  the  rest  of  the  way." 

"Where  did  you  say  she  is  now?"  asked 
the  chief,  writing  it  down  as  Richard  told  him. 


UP  THE  GRADE  329 

"And  when  will  she  start?"  also  writing  down 
the  answer.  "I  will  see  that  she  has  a  pass 
sent  her,"  said  that  big-hearted  official.  "I 
hope  she  will  recover." 

Richard  thanked  him  and  went  out  with 
a  light  heart.  He  made  an  estimate  of  ex 
penses,  and  what  he  could  earn  in  his  evening 
work,  and  found  that  he  could  spare  some 
money  from  his  savings.  The  next  mail  took 
a  letter  and  what  money  he  could  spare  to 
Black  Hawk  Spring.  He  knew  that  his 
mother  would  look  upon  so  long  a  trip  as  a 
great  undertaking,  but  urged  the  matter 
strongly,  speaking  of  the  company  it  would 
be  for  him,  as  well  as  benefit  to  her.  He 
described  the  spot  where  they  would  fix  up 
their  little  home  camp,  in  a  warm  sheltered 
cove  near  where  he  would  work,  with  beauti 
ful  clumps  of  oaks  near  a  flowing  spring  of 
pure,  cold,  sparkling  water  that  burst  out 
of  the  mountain  side,  with  great  sycamores 
in  the  nearby  canyon,  and  stately  pines  on 
the  clean,  grassy  slopes — and  "such  air  as  she 
never  breathed  before,  so  pure  and  invigor 
ating."  She  would  surely  get  well  in  a  short 
time,  and  "Oh,  what  happy  times"  they 


330  UP  THE  GRADE 

would  have  there  together.  She  must  begin 
at  once  to  make  preparations  to  come.  He 
looked  forward  hopefully  for  the  answer. 

When  his  letter  reached  her,  it  was  the 
subject  of  much  discussion.  The  family  en 
couraged  the  idea,  knowing  it  was  her  only 
hope.  Her  physician  urged  her  to  go,  and 
said  he  knew  of  a  lady  who  was  going  to  San 
Francisco,  and  he  would  arrange  for  them  to 
go  together.  She  wrote  Richard  that  she 
would  come.  The  date  was  arranged  for  her 
arrival,  immediately  after  the  school  closed. 
His  plan  was  to  meet  her  at  the  junction  of 
the  valley  road,  and  lose  no  time  in  getting 
her  to  the  mountains.  He  knew  she  would 
not  be  able  to  attend  the  graduating  exercises 
after  the  long  journey. 

The  time  flew  by,  and  the  long-looked-for 
commencement  day  came.  He  graduated  at 
the  head  of  his  class,  but  the  honors  he  re 
ceived,  and  the  real  pleasure  that  the  presence 
of  the  Cloverdale  family  gave  him,  were  over 
shadowed  by  his  anxiety  for  the  safety  of  his 
mother  and  the  thought  of  seeing  her  so  soon. 
He  selected  the  "outfit"  for  their  little  camp, 
which  consisted  of  a  small  tent, — to  be  used 


UP  THE  GRADE  331 

as  a  dressing  room  for  his  mother  and  to  pro 
tect  her  in  case  of  one  of  the  mountain  showers, 
which  sometimes  visit  that  altitude  in  summer 
— a  light  mattress,  pillow  and  hammock,  with 
plenty  of  soft  blankets.  Their  cooking  uten 
sils  and  dishes  were  very  few  and  simple.  All 
these  were  packed  and  sent  to  the  front  with 
the  company  supplies. 

He  was  ready  to  start  for  the  Junction  to 
meet  the  train  which  was  at  that  moment 
nearing  the  Sierra  Nevadas  with  his  mother 
among  the  passengers.  He  was  to  spend  the 
evening  with  Donald  in  his  shop.  He  dreaded 
the  parting  with  him,  who  had  been  so  true  a 
friend.  Richard  was  going  out  now  to  begin 
his  life's  work,  and  did  not  know  when  they 
would  meet  again,  if  ever.  Just  as  he  was 
about  to  start,  Donald  burst  into  his  room, 
his  face  radiant  with  smiles  and  flushed  with 
excitement. 

"I  have  gude  news,  Meester  Weeliams," 
he  cried.  "  I  am  goin'  back  to  the  auld  hame. 
I  have  a  gude  letter  frae  the  bonny  lass. 
She  hae  asserted  her  richts,  and  says :  "  Coom 
alang,  Donald,  coom  hame.  I  will  gang  wi' 
ye  noo."  Thees  is  tae  gude  tae  be  true, 


332  UP  THE  GRADE 

Meester  Weeliams.  Pll  get  her  and  fetch  her 
awa  tae  this  gude  countrie." 

Richard  read  the  letter  and  learned  from 
it  that  since  the  death  of  her  mother,  some 
months  before,  the  stepfather  had  commanded 
her  to  marry  his  nephew,  and  had  exercised 
such  tyrannical  authority  over  her  that  her 
submissive  spirit  had  rebelled  against  it. 
That  meek  and  long-suffering  woman  had  at 
last  "  asserted  her  rights,"  and  now  the  patient 
waiting  of  the  faithful  Scot  was  to  be  re 
warded. 

Richard  rejoiced  with  him,  and  they  spent 
a  happy  evening  together. 

The  next  morning  found  Richard  waiting 
at  the  Junction  for  the  coast  express.  When 
it  came  in  sight  his  heart  almost  stood  still. 
He  hurried  forward,  straining  his  eyes,  as 
coach  after  coach  pulled  by.  He  was  about 
to  enter  and  pass  through  the  train,  thinking 
to  help  her  off,  when  the  conductor  jumped 
to  the  platform  and  called  to  him,  saying: 
"Are  you  Mr.  Williams?"  He  answered  that 
he  was,  saying,  "  You  have  my  mother  on  this 
train — a  sick  lady — which  car  is  she  in?" 

The  conductor  hesitated  as  though  he  had 


UP  THE  GRADE  333 

something  to  say  which  he  would  have  been 
glad  to  delegate  to  another.  Richard  saw 
it,  and  the  suspense  being  more  than  he  could 
bear,  said:  "Speak,  man,  what  is  it?  Is  she 
not  on  the  train?" 

"No!"  said  the  conductor.  "She  is  not  on 
the  train.  We  were  obliged  to  leave  her 
at  H ." 

"Is  she "  he  could  not  say  the  word. 

"She  was  alive  when  we  took  her  off  the 
train,"  said  the  conductor.  "The  trip  had 
been  a  very  hard  one  for  her.  She  collapsed 
when  we  were  crossing  the  Sierras.  We 
thought  she  was  dying,  so  we  left  her  at  the 
first  town  of  any  size  this  side  of  the  Summit, 
at  a  safer  altitude.  She  was  alive  then.  To 
be  honest  with  you,  my  friend,  I  think  it  is 
very  doubtful  whether  you  will  ever  again 
see  her  alive.  It  is  possible  she  may  revive, 
but  she  is  very  feeble.  She  was  getting  along 
very  well  before  she  collapsed,  though  much 
fatigued  by  the  journey.  The  lady  who  is 
with  her  will  take  the  best  of  care  of  her.  I 
wired  for  a  physician  to  meet  the  train  and 
turned  her  over  to  his  care." 

"  How  soon  can  I  reach  her?"  asked  Richard. 


334  UP  THE  GRADE 

"This  train  goes  to  Sacramento,"  he  said, 
pointing  to  one  just  moving  out,  "  hurry  up/' 
running  across  with  him,  and  just  as  Richard 
climbed  on  the  train  he  shouted:  "I'll  have 
'em  wire  you  at  Sacramento  how  she  is." 

When  Richard  got  on  the  train,  he  sum 
moned  all  his  strength  and  nerved  himself 
for  the  worst.  She  was  alive  when  last  seen 
by  that  conductor — there  were  grounds  for 
hope.  Whatever  came,  he  was  prepared  to 
meet  it  like  a  man,  but  he  had  been  under  so 
much  strain  for  so  long  that  he  was  almost 
unnerved. 

When  he  reached  Sacramento  he  hastened 
to  the  telegraph  office  and  found  a  telegram 
waiting  for  him,  signed  by  a  physician,  which 
read: 

"Cheerful  and  resting  easy.  No  imme 
diate  danger." 

Through  the  thoughtfulness  of  the  con 
ductor  in  notifying  the  general  office,  he  also 
found  a  pass  for  himself  that  had  been  wired 
by  request  of  the  chief  engineer,  which  was 
a  forcible  and  pleasant  reminder  that  he  was 
no  longer  a  struggling  student,  but  a  full- 
fledged  civil  engineer  and  a  recognized  mem- 


UP  THE  GRADE  335 

her  of  that  department  of  a  great  railroad 
company.  After  some  delay  in  making  train 
connections,  he  was  again  on  his  way,  reach 
ing  his  destination  in  the  early  morning. 

The  meeting  of  the  mother  and  son  after 
nearly  four  years'  separation  was  an  affecting 
one.  The  kind  lady  who  had  taken  such 
good  care  of  Mrs.  Williams  went  on  the  next 
day,  and  Richard  took  her  place.  His  mother 
gained  strength  under  his  tender  care  quite 
rapidly.  The  doctor  said  her  collapse  was 
caused  by  the  extremely  high  altitude,  which 
always  affected  those  who  were  suffering 
from  disease  of  the  respiratory  organs,  often 
fatally,  as  it  came  so  near  being  in  this  case. 
Richard  found  her  in  pleasant  quarters,  in 
the  home  of  a  widow,  where  he  arranged  for 
accommodations  for  himself  until  she  had, 
by  rest  and  good  nursing,  sufficiently  re 
gained  her  strength  to  make  it  safe  to  go  with 
him  to  their  mountain  eyrie. 

Some  time  before  this  a  noted  scientist 
in  the  east  had  classified  pulmonary  affections, 
such  as  hers,  with  contagious  diseases;  and, 
as  a  consequence,  the  hotels  were  beginning 
to  refuse  them  admittance.  This  was  the 


336  UP  THE  GRADE 

case  in  this  little  hamlet.  When  she  was 
taken  off  the  train  and  the  nature  of  her 
disease  was  learned,  she  was  denied  admission 
to  the  tavern;  and  for  several  hours  there 
was  no  place  found  where  they  would  take 
her  in,  until  this  kind-hearted  widow  learned 
of  the  facts  and  offered  her  a  place  of  refuge, 
a  kindness  which  would  never  be  forgotten 
by  them. 


CHAPTER  XLI 
THE  MOUNTAIN  PASS 

THERE  was  something  very  pathetic  in  the 
devotion  of  this  son  to  his  mother.  She  was 
under  his  constant  care,  day  and  night.  Her 
every  wish  was  anticipated  by  him.  Her 
food  was  all  taken  from,  and  much  of  it  pre 
pared  by,  his  hands.  He  would  not  allow 
anyone  else  to  so  much  as  give  her  a  glass  of 
water.  As  soon  as  she  was  able  to  sit  up,  it 
was  his  arms  that  lifted  her  as  tenderly  as 
ever  a  helpless  infant  was  carried  to  her  easy 
chair;  and  when  she  began  to  take  short 
walks  in  the  open  air,  she  leaned  upon  his 
arm.  He  had  not  a  doubt  in  his  mind  of  the 
providential  leading  that  prompted  him  to 
decide  to  take  her  to  the  mountains.  He 
believed  that  his  prayers  for  divine  guidance 
had  been  answered,  and  that  the  Creator  of 
the  universe  had  provided  in  his  laboratory 
cures  for  the  diseases  of  the  flesh  as  well  as 
of  the  mind — that  it  remained  for  man  to  in- 

337 


338  UP  THE  GRADE 

telligently  use  the  means  that  He  has  pro 
vided.  He  was  not  a  mystic,  but  he  believed 
that  he  had  proved  by  his  own  experience 
that  there  is  one  who  leads  His  children  when 
they  place  their  hand  in  His  and  are  willing 
to  be  led  by  Him.  Who  dares  to  say  that 
he  was  not  entirely  right  in  his  conclusion? 
Certainly  none  who  have  given  the  matter  a 
fair,  personal  test. 

He  firmly  believed  that  the  open-air  life 
and  care,  in  the  particular  spot  to  which  he 
was  taking  his  mother,  would  work  a  com 
plete  cure.  His  part  was  to  get  her  there 
and  take  care  of  her.  If  there  was  a  failure, 
it  would  be  on  his  part.  God  had  provided 
the  cure,  and  he  was  only  the  instrument  in 
His  hands  of  utilizing  it.  He  could  see  that 
there  were  obstacles  to  be  met  and  overcome. 
To  get  her  to  "Nature's  Sanatarium"  was  a 
matter  of  great  anxiety  to  him.  As  soon  as 
he  thought  she  had  regained  the  strength  she 
had  lost  by  the  journey,  he  started  with  her. 
The  local  physician  expressed  a  doubt  of  their 
reaching  their  hoped-for  destination,  and 
advised  him  to  remain  where  they  were.  His 
prognosis  was  not  encouraging  in  either  case. 


UP  THE  GRADE  339 

Richard  carried  her  in  his  arms  to  the  train 
and  placed  her  tenderly  on  a  couch,  which 
he  improvised  between  two  seats.  No  sleep 
ing  car  service  had  been  installed  on  that  new 
road.  They  reached  the  foot  of  the  moun 
tains  safely.  Now  came  the  trying  part  of 
his  journey.  By  the  wagon  road,  which  was 
rough  and  broken  by  the  heavy  hauling  of 
material  for  the  tunnels  and  bridges,  the  dis 
tance  was  only  ten  or  eleven  miles,  but  the 
ascent  was  nearly  two  thousand  feet.  They 
rested  in  the  warm  valley  at  Caliente  for  a 
day,  where  the  heat  was  quite  depressing  for 
her.  Here  he  learned  that  several  home 
steaders  had  located  along  the  way,  some  of 
whom  were  engaged  in  stock  raising  and 
others  working  on  the  railroad.  The  nearest 
one  was  about  two  miles,  and  there  were 
others  scattered  along  whose  shacks  were 
located  on  the  road  or  near  it  at  some  of  the 
mountain  springs.  After  some  search  he 
found  a  gentle  burro  and  saddle.  Upon  this 
saddle  he  packed  some  blankets  and  canvas- 
covered  canteens  for  water  and  milk,  to  be 
kept  cool  by  frequent  immersions  in  the  cold 
springs  and  streams.  These  he  got  from  the 


340  UP  THE  GRADE 

"Company  Store,"  together  with  a  supply  of 
provisions,  consisting  of  a  quantity  of  de 
licious  ripe  fruit  of  different  kinds,  and  plain 
but  nourishing  food.  When  he  was  all  ready 
to  start,  he  went  to  her  room,  and  in  his  most 
jolly  and  joyous  mood,  said : 

"Now,  ma,  we  are  going  on  our  picnic! 
This  is  our  vacation.  We  are  off  for  the 
greatest  spree  you  ever  had  in  all  the  born 
days  of  your  life.  You  must  put  on  your 
best  'bib  and  tucker/  for  you  are  to  going 
be  my  'best  girl'  for  this  whole  trip." 

He  wrapped  her  up  carefully  and  placed 
on  her  head  a  broad-brimmed  straw  hat  with 
a  cluster  of  natural  rose-buds,  the  only  orna 
ment,  saying:  "I  trimmed  this  hat  myself. 
The  milliner  has  gone  to  Paris  for  her  spring 
stock  of  'sombreros/  There  won't  be  a  hat 
turned  out  of  any  New  York  shop  this  year 
that  'can  hold  a  candle7  to  this  one,  for  this 
will  be  trimmed  new  every  morning,  and  I  am 
going  to  do  it  myself.  I  had  a  stretchy, 
elastic  band  put  on,  so  it  will  hold  anything 
from  a  pansy  to  a  sunflower." 

She  put  it  on  and  walked  to  the  door,  say 
ing:  "  How  are  we  going?"  Then  seeing  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  341 

burro  with  its  long  ears,  and  pack,  she  said : 
"What  on  earth  is  this?  You  don't  expect 
me  to  ride  this  animal,  do  you?" 

"That's  a  California  Oriole,"  he  said. 
"That  sweet-voiced  songster  has  an  invita 
tion  to  the  picnic.  It  will  carry  our  lunch 
basket  and  furnish  the  music."  He  walked 
around  it,  adjusting  the  pack,  talking  to  it 
playfully.  "No,  sweetheart,"  he  said,  as  he 
came  back  to  her,  "you  won't  ride  it  any 
today,  but  you  will  have  to  lead  it."  He 
then  placed  the  light  cotton  leading  rope  in 
her  hand,  saying,  "Til  show  you  how  it  is 
done.  Now  hold  this  just  so,"  and  he 
stooped  down  and  threw  the  rope  over  his 
shoulder,  bringing  her  arm  around  his  neck, 
at  the  same  time  picking  her  up  lightly,  not 
noticing  the  crowd  that  gathered  around, 
nor  would  he  have  cared  if  the  President  of 
the  United  States  and  his  Cabinet  had  seen 
him  carrying  his  mother.  When  she  saw 
that  he  was  going  to  carry  her,  she  made  a 
mild  protest,  whispering,  "If  you  are  going 
to  carry  me,  you  had  better  let  me  walk  a 
little  way  until  we  get  out  of  sight  of  these 
people." 


342  UP  THE  GRADH 

"Get  out!"  said  he.  "What  do  we  care 
for  them?  If  it  furnishes  them  a  little  amuse 
ment,  eo  much  the  better/ '  and  he  started 
to  go.  The  rope  tightened,  as  the  burro  was 
reluctant  to  leave  its  mates.  He  called  out, 
"Come  on,  my  sweet- voiced  birdlet,"  but  it 
braced  itself  stubbornly,  and  sent  forth  one 
of  its  loudest  songs.  The  by-standers  burst 
into  a  wild  shout,  in  which  both  he  and  his 
mother  joined.  With  a  merry  laugh  a  good- 
natured  Mexican  picked  up  a  board,  and 
going  behind  the  burro  administered  a  few 
rousing  slaps,  following  until  he  was  sure 
there  would  be  no  further  interruption.  As 
they  moved  slowly  away,  the  Mexican  bring 
ing  up  the  rear,  a  teamster  who  stood  looking 
after  them,  without  a  smile  on  his  face,  said, 
as  he  rolled  and  lighted  a  cigarette,  "By, 
gosh,  I  wish  I  had  a  photograph  gallery  here. 
Fd  like  a  pictur'  of  that  outfit.  I  wonder 
where  they  are  goin'." 

The  storekeeper  said:  "That's  one  of  the 
surveyors  of  the  road  and  that's  his  mother. 
He's  goin'  to  take  her  up  the  pass." 

"Wa'al,  I'll  bet  he's  a  darned  good  feller. 
Le's  give  him  three  cheers."  And  he  shouted, 


UP  THE  GRADE  343 

"Hooray  for  the  surveyor!"  And  three  lusty 
cheers  went  up  with  waving  of  hats.  The 
burro  meekly  turned  its  head,  laid  back  its 
ears,  and  gave  vent  to  another  one  of  its 
"oriole"  songs.  Richard  and  his  mother 
waved  good-bye,  and  the  "picnic"  had 
begun. 


CHAPTER  XLII 
UP  THE  GRADE 

IT  was  early  morning.  The  rising  sun  shot 
its  shafts  of  silvery  light  along  the  rugged 
mountain  peaks.  A  soft,  gentle  breeze  stirred 
the  leaves  on  the  drooping  sycamores,  be 
neath  which  laughing  brooklets  came  rippling 
down  from  their  birthplace  among  the  snow- 
clad  heights.  Mountain  linnets  and  mocking 
birds  trilled  their  welcome  to  the  newborn 
day,  and  quail,  shaking  their  tiny  crests, 
scampered  away,  piping  their  note  of  warning 
from  the  chaparral.  The  air  was  loaded  with 
the  sweet  perfume  of  wild  flowers.  All  nature 
was  rejoicing,  but  not  more  so  than  this  proud 
mother  and  her  son. 

Like  two  happy  children  loitering  by  the 
roadside  were  our  pilgrims  from  the  Badger 
State.  They  slowly  moved  along,  stopping 
often  to  view  some  grand  vista,  some  pecul 
iarly  tinted  rock,  or  he  would  run  to  fetch  a 
fancied  flower  or  plant  or  leaf  and  bring  them 

344 


UP  THE  GRADE  345 

to  her,  while  she  sat  upon  some  mossy  bank. 
By  easy  stages  they  moved  on  and  cared  not 
how  slowly  the  distance  crept  behind  them, 
or  how  many  hours  or  days  it  would  take  to 
reach  their  eyrie  in  the  pass  above.  The 
road  wound  around  the  heads  of  canyons, 
with  ever-changing  views,  each  one  seeming 
more  grand  to  her  than  any  they  had  seen 
before.  And  so  they  were,  for,  as  the  greater 
heights  were  reached  and  the  angle  of  vision 
changed,  the  lesser  peaks  seemed  to  step 
aside  and  work  their  panoramic  changes. 
As  Richard  would  take  her  in  his  arms,  he 
would  say:  "We  will  go  to  that  great  pine," 
or  "to  that  overhanging  rock,  and  see  what 
that  will  bring  to  view."  Then  she  would 
lay  her  head  upon  his  breast  as  peacefully 
as  a  trusting  babe;  and  when  they  reached 
the  place,  they  would  sit  and  feast  their  eyes. 
The  road  they  took  runs  far  above  the  rail 
road  track.  From  it  they  could  see  its  wind 
ing  course,  where  in  Richard's  first  summer, 
he  had  helped  to  find  the  grades  where  it 
would  go.  He  told  her  how  they  went  into 
the  canyons,  trying  here  and  there  to  find 
an  opening  where  a  roadway  could  be  built; 


346  UP  THE  GRADE 

that  when  insurmountable  barriers  inter 
vened  and  rocks  and  mountains  blocked  the 
way,  they  found  the  grade  and  made  the 
maps  and  plans  which  others  used  to  drive 
the  tunnels  through  the  solid  granite;  then, 
when  completed,  there  would  be  eighteen 
such  tunnels  in  the  pass. 

As  they  were  whiling  away  the  time  and 
slowly  climbing  higher  and  higher,  the  sun 
reached  the  zenith.  At  a  spring  beneath 
live  oaks,  he  found  an  easy  resting-place  for 
her,  where  she  could  watch  him  prepare  their 
first  meal.  He  built  a  fire  in  a  fissure  of  a 
rock,  and  soon  had  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  dainty 
luncheon,  which  they  both  enjoyed.  After 
resting  for  a  while,  they  again  began  their  for 
ward  march.  While  it  was  yet  early  in  the 
afternoon,  he  removed  the  pack  and  prepared 
to  make  their  first  night  camp.  He  first  un 
folded  a  large  piece  of  canvas  from  around 
their  stores,  and  tethered  the  donkey  where 
rich  grasses  grew.  Then  he  cut  some  forked 
sticks  and  drove  them  in  the  earth.  Across 
these  he  laid  the  ridge  pole,  and  leaned  pine 
boughs  against  it.  Underneath  he  spread 
dry  pine  needles  on  the  ground,  and  covered 


UP  THE  GRADE  347 

these  with  soft  boughs,  and  on  them  spread 
warm  blankets.  On  the  windward  side  he 
left  his  bower  open,  and  over  all  he  spread 
the  canvas  and  tucked  it  down  and  weighted 
it.  He  built  his  camp  fire  and  let  it  burn  to 
a  bed  of  live  coals.  Over  these  he  broiled  a 
tender  steak,  and  cooked  a  meal  fit  for  a  king, 
of  which  he  took  for  her  the  choicest  part  and 
gave  her  sparingly.  Before  the  chill  of  the 
evening  came  on,  he  put  her  in  her  cozy  nest 
and  wrapped  her  up  so  comfortably  she  did 
not  feel  the  breath  of  the  night  as  it  drew  on. 
At  a  little  distance  from  the  opening  he  had 
left,  he  piled  dry  wood,  and  as  the  night  ad 
vanced  and  the  air  cooled,  he  lighted  a  fire 
and  kept  it  burning  until  morning.  She 
slept  so  quietly  that  he  became  alarmed, 
and  softly  called.  She  told  him  she  was 
having  a  fine  rest,  and  urged  him  to  go  to  his 
rest  and  not  worry  about  her.  She  saw  him 
roll  his  blankets  around  him  and  lie  down, 
and  never  knew  that  he  did  not  close  his  eyes 
in  sleep  that  night.  The  next  day,  when 
they  had  had  their  noon-day  meal,  he 
stretched  himself  upon  the  ground  and  slept 
while  she  watched  him.  She  did  not  know 


348  UP  THE  GRADE 

what  great  relief  and  joy  it  was  to  him  to  see 
her  through  the  first  night  "on  the  range/7 
and  to  have  her  feel  so  much  refreshed.  He 
told  her,  as  they  journeyed  on  that  day,  that 
he  should  take  the  same  precaution  every 
night  until  they  had  reached  the  higher  alti 
tude,  and  she  became  accustomed  to  the  cool 
night  air;  but  when  she  had  become  accli 
mated,  she  would  sleep  in  the  open  air  with 
no  covering  but  her  blankets,  and  her  only 
shelter  the  boughs  of  the  pine  trees  under 
neath  which  her  couch  would  be  spread. 

So,  higher  and  higher  up  the  pass  she  was 
carried  in  his  strong  arms.  He  would  not 
let  her  walk  nor  feel  the  slightest  jar.  She 
must  husband  her  strength.  She  wanted  to 
ride  the  burro,  but  he  told  her  there  would 
be  time  enough  for  that  after  she  got  stronger. 
She  would  find  that  a  healthful  and  enjoyable 
exercise,  but  if  she  rode  now,  he  would  have 
to  carry  the  pack,  which  was  heavier  than 
herself.  He  could  not  think  of  allowing  her 
to  do  it  until  she  had  eaten  their  stock  of  pro 
visions  and  thus  lightened  the  load.  This 
she  declared  she  would  do  forthwith. 

They  stopped  at  some  of  the  settler's  homes 


UP  THE  GRADE  349 

on  the  way,  and  procured  fresh  milk,  eggs, 
etc.,  and  found  a  hospitable,  kindly  people. 

It  was  a  strange  sight  to  them,  who  were 
so  well  and  strong,  to  see  him  carry  her  in 
his  arms  on  such  a  journey.  More  than  one 
wife  and  mother  in  these  mountain  homes 
might  have  been  seen  to  brush  away  a  tear 
as  they  saw  him  take  her  up  so  tenderly  and 
heard  his  jolly  jokes  as  they  went  on  their 
way.  They  often  met  and  were  passed  by 
teams  on  the  road.  Even  the  teamsters  were 
touched  by  the  sight,  and  everyone  going  up 
the  pass  offered  them  a  ride;  and  when  he 
told  them  that  her  condition  was  such  that 
she  could  not  stand  the  jolting  of  any  other 
conveyance  than  his  arms,  they  tried  to  de 
vise  some  place  for  her  on  their  wagons. 
They  were  disappointed  at  not  being  able  to 
help  them,  and  all  left  wishing  them  a  "safe 
journey. " 

Some  of  their  night  camps  were  not  more 
than  a  mile  apart,  but  Richard  told  her  they 
were  not  trying  to  break  any  pedestrian 
records,  and  he  was  well  satisfied  with  the 
progress  they  were  making. 

Before  they  had  been  a  week  on  the  way, 


350  UP  THE  GRADE 

she  declared  that  she  was  getting  better,  and 
he  almost  dared  hope  that  he  could  see  signs 
of  improvement.  As  they  got  into  the  higher 
altitude,  he  could  see  that  her  respiration  was 
surely  improving  and  her  appetite  was  good. 
One  night  they  had  a  little  adventure  that 
frightened  her  some,  but  with  no  serious  con 
sequences.  Richard  had  seen  a  mountain 
lion — or  cougar — several  times  for  three  or 
four  days,  that  seemed  to  be  lurking  in  the 
vicinity  of  their  camp.  He  did  not  mention 
it  to  her  lest  it  might  alarm  her.  He  had  no 
fear  of  it  attacking  him,  but  thought  it  might 
possibly  have  its  eye  on  their  burro.  One 
evening  while  he  was  making  a  place  for  his 
mother  to  sleep,  they  heard  a  commotion 
just  around  a  large  rock  where  he  had  tied 
the  burro,  where  it  was  hidden  from  their 
sight.  She  saw  him  bring  out  from  some 
where  a  long  Navy  six-shooter,  which  she 
had  not  seen  before,  and  run  around  the  rock. 
His  disappearance  was  followed  by  the  report 
of  the  revolver  two  or  three  times  in  rapid 
succession.  Before  she  had  time  to  be  ser 
iously  frightened,  he  reappeared,  with  an 
explanation  which  he  had  not  time  to  make 


UP  THE  GRADE  351 

before,  saying:  "Pve  got  him!  His  skin  will 
make  a  dandy  rug  for  your  tent." 

"You  frightened  me  terribly,"  she  said. 
"  What  have  you  killed?  A  rabbit,  or  a  wolf, 
or  what?" 

"Larger  game  than  a  rabbit,  or  a  wolf,  or 
a  what"  he  said.  "  I  have  killed  an  animal  of 
the  cat  family  larger  than  a  wildcat.  He  was 
after  'Mexy'  (a  name  he  had  given  the  burro) 
for  his  supper."  He  dragged  it  around  where 
she  could  see  it.  It  was  a  large  specimen, 
measuring  over  nine  feet  from  tip  to  toe. 
She  shuddered  when  she  saw  it,  but  he  told 
her  of  the  cowardly  nature  of  the  animal, 
and  that  it  would  run  from  man  and  take  a 
tree  for  the  smallest  dog,  but  would  kill  a 
calf  or  a  colt,  and  sometimes  attack  an  animal 
even  larger  than  a  burro.  It  had  a  bullet 
hole  directly  between  the  eyes.  The  other 
two  shots  had  missed  altogether.  The  skin 
was  dressed  by  one  of  the  men  in  the  railroad 
camp,  and  made  a  fine,  soft  rug,  which  helped 
to  carpet  her  tent.  After  that  the  burro  was 
always  tied  in  sight  of  the  camp. 

One  evening  Richard  told  her  that  early 
the  next  day  they  would  reach  their  perma- 


852  UP  THE  GRADE 

nent  camping  place;  that  the  dark  peak  which 
they  saw  ahead  was  the  top  of  Black  Moun 
tain,  which  was  about  three  or  four  miles 
beyond  their  stopping  place.  They  could 
reach  it  that  night,  but  she  had  traveled  as 
far  as  she  should  for  one  day,  so  they  would 
make  a  temporary  camp  one  more  night  and 
go  early  in  the  morning.  This  would  give 
them  nearly  all  day  to  be  fixing  up  their 
permanent  quarters.  Another  reason,  which 
he  did  not  mention,  was  that  he  wanted  her 
to  get  her  first  sight  of  the  spot  he  had  selected 
in  the  morning,  when  she  was  not  weary  from 
the  journey  of  the  day.  That  her  first  im 
pression  might  be  a  pleasant  one,  he  wanted 
her  to  see  it  at  its  best. 

He  was  astir  at  an  early  hour,  and  when 
the  sun  burst  over  the  Sierra  range,  it  looked 
upon  a  happy  and  thankful  man.  He  had 
reached  the  goal  of  his  hopes,  and  so  far  all 
was  going  well.  They  turned  off  from  the 
main  trail  a  short  distance,  through  scattering 
oak  and  pine  trees,  the  ground  gently  rising 
toward  a  rugged  arm  of  the  mountain,  and 
came  upon  a  beautiful  little  glen  filled  with 
a  grove  of  live  oaks  with  their  dark  green 


UP  THE  GRADE  353 

foliage.  Out  from  this  grove  came  the  sound 
of  flowing  water,  which  issued  from  the  earth 
cool  and  clear  as  crystal.  Back  of  and  above 
the  spring  were  scattering  pines;  below  it, 
in  the  land  made  moist  by  the  overflow  of 
the  spring,  were  large  sycamores  with  their 
broad  leaves  and  drooping  branches.  The 
higher  slopes  beyond  were  covered  with  a 
dense  growth  of  trees  and  shrubs,  conspicuous 
among  them  being  the  buckeyes,  each  form 
ing  a  clump  of  bright  green  of  a  lighter  shade 
than  the  live  oaks,  and  covered  with  white, 
plume-like  blossoms,  gave  forth  a  delicate 
perfume.  They  stopped  a  short  distance 
beyond  and  above  the  spring  under  a  great 
pine,  and  he  said,  "Now  we  are  at  home." 

She  turned  and  looked  about  her.  The 
open  country  in  front  was  pastoral  in  appear 
ance.  Here  were  cattle,  sleek  with  fatness, 
that  had  never  tasted  food,  summer  or  winter, 
other  than  that  which  was  provided  by  nature 
on  the  range.  To  her  right,  men  were  busy 
building  the  railroad,  which  takes  its  zigzag 
course,  at  one  place  five  apparently  parallel 
tracks  being  visible;  and  right  here  it  makes 
a  complete  loop,  encircling  a  small  detached 


354  UP  THE  GRADE 

mound,  recrossing  itself  at  right  angles 
through  a  tunnel,  one  track  above  the  other. 
As  she  looked  about  her,  tears  came  to  her 
eyes,  and  she  said:  "I  have  never  dreamed 
of  anything  so  grand. " 

"Well,  then,"  said  Richard,  "bare  your 
head  for  a  moment,  and  while  you  are  con 
templating  the  grandeur  of  the  scene,  I  will 
call  upon  nature  to  assist  me  in  my  morning 
task;"  and  he  took  the  hat  and  decorated  it 
with  wild  flowers  that  grew  at  their  feet. 
As  he  replaced  it,  she  said : 

"  If  you  keep  on  trimming  this  hat,  as  you 
have  done  so  artistically  every  morning,  I 
am  afraid  you  will  make  me  proud.  Let  me 
fix  you  out,"  and  she  was  pinning  a  little 
bunch  of  flowers  to  his  coat,  both  laughing 
merrily,  when  a  voice  sang  out : 

"Excuse  me,  Williams,  for  intruding.  We 
saw  you  from  the  camp,  and  I  came  over  to 
welcome  you,  and  congratulate  you,  too," 
he  added,  as  he  saw  their  happy  faces. 

Richard  shook  hands  with  him,  saying  with 
genuine  heartiness:  "Mother,  this  is  my 
friend,  Mr.  Leslie." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  she  said,  "I  know  who  Mr. 


UP  THE  GRADE  355 

Leslie  is,  and  I  am  glad  he  has  honored  us  by 
being  our  first  visitor." 

As  he  took  her  thin  little  hand  in  his,  he 
said  feelingly :  "  The  teamsters  have  reported 
to  me  every  day,  and  I  have  been  watching 
your  progress  with  great  interest.  There  is 
not  a  man  in  our  camp  who  would  not  be 
almost  as  willing  to  pick  up  your  son  and 
carry  him  as  he  has  been  to  take  you  in  his 
arms.  He  is  a  great  hero  in  their  eyes,  as  I 
suppose  he  is  in  yours." 

For  the  first  time  since  she  had  started 
from  home,  she  broke  down  and  gave  way 
to  her  feelings.  She  put  her  arms  around 
Richard's  neck,  and  as  he  lifted  her  in  his 
and  spoke  soothingly,  she  laid  her  head  upon 
his  bosom,  and  said  between  her  sobs :  "  My — 
noble — son!" 

Mr.  Leslie  turned  away  to  hide  his  emotion, 
and  when  Richard  tried  to  speak  in  his  merry 
joking  way,  his  voice  had  a  thick,  unnatural 
sound.  This,  however,  was  but  momentary. 
He  soon  had  her  laughing  through  her  tears. 

Mr.  Leslie  came  to  their  relief  by  saying: 
"There  comes  one  of  our  teams  with  your 
luggage  and  camp  outfit.  Where  will  you 
have  them?" 


356  UP  THE  GRADE 

Richard  gave  the  directions. 

"Here  is  a  good  tent,"  said  Mr.  Leslie, 
"that  was  intended  for  my  office.  It  is 
large  enough  to  put  all  your  stores  and  baggage 
in,  and  leave  plenty  of  room  for  our  tables 
and  camp  chairs.  There  will  be  a  good  deal 
of  'office  work'  for  us.  I  thought  we  could 
have  that  tent  up  here.  It  will  not  be  as 
lonesome  for  your  mother  when  we  are  work 
ing  here.  One  of  us  can  be  here  the  most  of 
the  time,  for  our  headquarters  will  be  at  the 
Loop  for  several  months." 

It  goes  without  saying  that  Richard  was 
delighted  at  such  an  arrangement.  It  was 
not  his  intention,  however,  to  leave  her  alone 
until  she  was  stronger,  even  if  he  had  to  wait 
for  some  time  before  beginning  work.  As 
it  was,  he  had  the  little  tent  for  his  mother, 
and  her  couch  under  the  big  pine,  all  in  shape 
that  day,  and  was  ready  to  begin  work  with 
Mr.  Leslie  the  next  morning.  Never  were 
conditions  more  favorable  nor  arrangements 
more  complete  for  the  "open-air  treatment" 
than  these. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 
THE  EYRIE 

RICHARD  entered  upon  his  work  with  great 
enthusiasm.  By  rising  early  and  working 
late  he  found  time  to  give  his  mother  the  best 
of  care,  and  do  the  "housework."  She  soon 
began  to  show  unmistakable  signs  of  im 
provement,  and  in  a  few  weeks  insisted  on 
helping  about  the  cooking;  but  he  would  not 
allow  her  to  do  it,  as  he  said  their  way  of 
living  was  so  simple  there  was  no  work  in  it — 
it  was  pastime  for  him.  Every  week  a  nice 
box  of  fruit  and  vegetables  found  its  way  up 
from  the  Cloverdale  rancho.  Rosalind  wrote 
that  they  must  enjoy  it,  as  they  were  picked 
and  packed  by  her  own  hand,  a  task  she  had 
taken  on  herself  because  of  the  pleasure  it 
gave  her.  She  did  not  say  that  there  was 
another  there  beside  Richard  and  his  mother 
who  was  also  in  her  mind,  and  who  helped 
make  her  self-imposed  task  a  real  "labor  of 
love."  She  knew  that  Mr.  Leslie,  being  so 

357 


358  UP  THE  GRADE 

near  them,  would  naturally  come  in  for  his 
share. 

Mrs.  Williams  had  numerous  callers.  They 
were  located  about  midway  of  the  Pass.  She 
had,  as  we  have  said,  met  the  wives  of  some 
of  the  settlers  below  on  her  way  up,  and  those 
living  above  and  throughout  the  country 
soon  learned  that  she  was  there,  and  the 
manner  of  her  coming.  Being  an  educated 
lady  and  of  such  charming  personality,  she 
was  the  subject  of  much  conversation  when 
ever  two  or  more  of  the  good  wives  of  the 
mountains  chanced  to  meet.  Those  who  had 
met  her  had  great  stories  to  tell  of  the  fine 
lady  who  lived  at  the  Loop.  Going  by  the 
mountain  trails  on  horseback,  it  was  not  long 
before  all  of  them  for  miles  around  had  made 
her  a  visit  and  brought  some  little  dainty 
that  they  hoped  would  tempt  her  appetite 
and  help  her  on  the  way  to  health.  She  was 
touched  and  greatly  comforted  by  their  acts 
of  kindness.  Her  plain,  homelike,  yet  re 
fined  and  ladylike  manners  completely  cap 
tured  them.  As  for  Richard  he  was  their 
hero,  the  embodiment  of  all  that  was  grand 
and  noble.  So  their  fame  spread  abroad  and 


UP  THE  GRADE  359 

friends  multiplied,  while  they  were  entirely 
unconscious  of  the  great  things  which  were 
said  about  them,  and  which  lost  nothing  in 
the  telling.  One  day  a  Mrs.  Thomas,  the 
wife  of  a  settler  who  lived  in  a  little  valley 
quite  near  them,  and  from  whom  they  had 
been  getting  their  supply  of  milk,  butter  and 
eggs,  came  to  them  with  a  request.  She  had 
a  daughter,  Ruth,  nearly  grown,  who,  she 
said,  was  making  a  " right  smart"  start  in 
school  before  they  left  their  old  home  and 
came  to  the  mountains.  They  were  anxious 
to  have  her  "go  on  with  her  books."  She 
could  do  "all  kinds  of  cooking"  and  they 
wanted  to  know  if  Mrs.  Williams  would 
"learn  her"  what  she  could  in  exchange  for 
her  services.  They  could  spare  her  and  she 
could  do  all  of  their  work.  They  gladly 
accepted  the  offer,  Ruth's  father  came  over 
and  put  up  a  tent  and  furnished  it  for  her, 
and  she  began  her  work.  Mrs.  Williams 
found  her  a  bright  scholar  and  a  neat  and 
competent  helper.  So  Richard  was  relieved 
from  his  household  duties;  and  their  office 
work  being  nearly  finished,  he  and  Mr.  Leslie 
were  "on  the  works"  most  of  the  time. 


360  UP  THE  GRADE 

Richard  was  becoming  familiar  with  all  parts 
of  the  district  over  which  Mr.  Leslie  had  the 
oversight. 

Some  months  after  Richard  was  installed 
in  his  work,  Mr.  Leslie  was  called  into  the 
general  office  and  told  by  the  chief  engineer 
that  he  was  to  be  promoted  to  a  position 
which  would  keep  him  at  the  office  of  the 
chief  engineer  in  San  Francisco  permanently. 
Mr.  Leslie  stopped  at  the  Cloverdale  rancho, 
and  it  was  arranged  between  him  and  Rosalind 
that  they  would  be  married  as  soon  as  he 
was  located  in  the  city.  Her  parents  gave 
their  consent,  and  Mr.  Leslie  returned  to 
the  work  elated  over  the  prospect.  He  told 
Richard  the  "good  news"  in  the  presence  of 
his  mother,  and  they  both  congratulated 
him.  After  discussing  the  subject,  Mr.  Leslie 
said :  "  Do  you  know  I  am  under  great  obliga 
tions  to  you  for  introducing  me  into  that 
family?  And  do  you  know  further  that  you 
might  have  had  Rosalind  for  your  wife? 
She  told  me  in  her  innocent,  artless  way,  that 
she  at  one  time  loved  you  and  came  very 
near  telling  you  so.  She  said  that  you  con 
sented  to  her  calling  you  her  brother,  and 


UP  THE  GRADE  361 

when  she  found  her  feeling  was  more  than 
that  of  a  sister,  she  thought  it  her  duty  to 
tell  you;  and  one  day  as  you  were  about  to 
take  the  train  she  started  to  tell  you  so,  but 
could  not  put  it  in  words.  She  said  you 
always  laid  so  much  emphasis  on  the  'brother/ 
that  she  finally  accepted  that  as  the  true 
status  of  your  relations.  Knowing  her  as 
you  do,  you  can  see  how  frankly  she  would 
tell  me  aU  this." 

"I  have  often  wondered/'  said  Richard, 
"what  it  was  she  came  so  near  saying  to  me 
that  day  at  the  train,  and  she  said  I  would 
know  '  some  time/  I  did  and  still  do  think 
of  her  as  a  sister  with  as  nearly  the  same  feel 
ing  as  it  would  be  possible  where  no  blood 
relations  exist — never  more  than  that.  It 
was  otherwise  ordered,  and  you  are  both  to 
be  congratulated."  Then  Richard  told  him 
as  a  dear  friend :  "  The  fact  is,  there  is  a  little 
lady  in  the  east  who  has  all  the  love  I  shall 
feel  for  any  woman.  I  cherish  a  hope  that 
some  day  she  will  be  my  wife;  but  I  must 
confess  that  there  is  really  very  little  founda 
tion  for  me  to  base  such  a  hope  upon.  It 
will  do  no  harm  for  you  to  know  it,  since  you 


362  UP  THE  GRADE 

will  probably  never  see  her  or  know  who 
she  is." 

"  Well,  I  shall  devoutly  pray  that  your  hope 
will  be  realized/'  said  Mr.  Leslie,  as  he  bade 
them  good-night. 

When  he  had  gone,  his  mother  said:  "I 
have  not  spoken  to  you  of  Annie,  my  son, 
lest  it  might  wound  your  feelings.  I  see  you 
are  unchanged  in  your  regard  for  her." 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  "there  can  be  no 
change." 

"  And  you  have  never  spoken  to  her  of  it — 
never  written  to  her?" 

"  No,  I  have  never  heard  from  her  directly 
since  I  saw  her  get  on  the  train  that  night 
she  left  for  the  east." 

"What  do  you  base  your  hope  upon?" 
she  asked. 

"A  look — only  a  look,"  he  answered. 

"Do  you  know,  my  dear  son,  I  think  you 
have  not  acted  for  the  best  in  this  matter. 
You  can  hardly  expect  her  to  wait  all  these 
years  with  no  word  from  you.  I  am  sure 
she  loved  you,  but  she  was  young  then,  and 
there  was  no  understanding  between  you. 
She  is  a  very  attractive  and  lovable  girl  and 


UP  THE  GRADE  363 

must  be  very  popular.  Others  will  seek  her 
hand,  and  I  am  afraid,  win  it.  '  A  faint  heart 
never  won  a  fair  lady/  you  know." 

"I  do  not  think  I  have  a  faint  heart.  I 
love  her  too  well  to  stand  in  the  way  of  her 
doing  better.  I  may  be  acting  wrong,  but 
I  shall  never  ask  her  to  commit  herself  until 
I  can  offer  her  a  good  home.  That  I  decided 
long  ago.  If  she  marries  another,  I  shall 
know  she  loves  him.  She  cannot  love  two. 
She  is  too  true,  too  noble,  to  promise  herself 
to  one  she  does  not  love.  The  time  is  not 
far  distant  when  I  shall  know  all  about  it. 
I  have  left  that,  as  I  have  left  all  important 
matters,  with  one  who  has  led  me  miracu 
lously.  If  she  is  not  to  be  for  me,  I  have 
my  father  and  mother  and  Bessie,  Eddie  and 
Freddie  to  love  and  care  for." 

Then  their  conversation  led  off  to  them; 
and  the  great  thought  and  greatest  earthly 
hope  of  his  life  was  laid  aside,  as  it  had  so 
often  been  before. 

It  was  getting  on  toward  the  season  when 
rainy  weather  might  be  looked  for,  and 
Richard  was  wishing  he  could  know  whether 
he  could  expect  to  remain  there  for  the  winter, 


364  UP  THE  GRADE 

which  he  wanted  to  do  on  his  mother's 
account.  If  he  did  so,  he  must  begin  to 
think  about  preparing  a  winter  camp,  where 
his  mother  could  have  better  protection  and 
still  have  the  benefit  of  free,  open  air.  He 
had  been  thinking  for  some  time  of  speaking 
to  Mr.  Leslie  about  it,  when  that  gentleman 
came  to  him  and  said :  "  I  am  going  into  the 
general  office  next  week.  I  have  recom 
mended  you  as  my  successor,  and  your  ap 
pointment  has  come." 

"Then  I  will  have  headquarters  here  for 
the  winter,"  said  Richard.  "I  would  like 
to  keep  my  mother  here  a  year.  I  think  she 
will  be  completely  cured  by  that  time." 

"You  will  be  here  that  long  and  possibly 
longer,  if  you  wish  to,"  was  the  reply. 

Richard  was  kept  very  busy  after  his  pro 
motion,  but  his  salary  was  increased  in  pro 
portion,  and  he  was  saving  the  most  of  his 
earnings. 

The  company  was  also  working  from  the 
Los  Angeles  end,  and  had  been  for  several 
years.  The  long  tunnel  that  formed  the 
outlet  to  the  San  Fernando  Valley  was  com 
pleted,  and  they  were  looking  forward  to 


UP  THE  GRADE  365 

the  driving  of  the  "golden  spike,"  which 
would  make  the  road  complete  from  San 
Francisco  to  Los  Angeles. 

Richard  had  been  successful  in  whatever 
work  he  had  engaged — he  was  more  so  in  this 
as  he  had  a  special  training  for  it.  His  rise 
was  rapid,  for  his  superior  officers  knew  he 
was  to  be  relied  upon. 

One  day,  when  some  of  the  officials,  who 
had  been  out  on  a  tour  of  inspection  with 
him,  were  discussing  him  and  young  men  in 
general,  one  of  them — a  gray-haired  veteran — 
said:  "The  time  is  coming  when  we  'old 
timers'  will  have  to  step  aside.  The  young 
men  are  going  to  have  their  'innings!'  If 
they  will  learn  that  a  young  man  is  valuable 
just  to  the  extent  that  he  can  be  depended 
on  and  no  further,  they  will  be  doing  the 
business  of  this  country  in  twenty  years 
from  now.  It  seems  that  some  of  them  have 
learned  the  truth  of  this  wise  philosophy, 
for  they  are  doing  the  business  today.  What 
a  pity  that  there  are  so  many  who  can  not 
be  depended  upon !  Our  country  needs  more 
Richards." 

It  is  the  hope  and  prayer  of  the  writer  that 


366  UP  THE  GRADE 

the  young  man,  who  may  read  the  story  of 
Richard,  may  see  the  possibilities  that  are 
before  himself — the  power  that  is  pent  up 
within  him,  or  being  wasted — and  start  anew! 
Never  ashamed,  or  thinking  it  unmanly,  to 
draw  upon  the  Infinite  for  the  strength,  which 
alone  will  carry  him  through  the  fiery  furnace 
of  temptation  and  bring  him  out  unscathed! 
Young  man,  this  means  you!  You  are  en 
gaged  in  the  work  of  character  building.  Are 
you  making  a  good  or  a  bad  job  of  it?  You 
are  "in  the  crucible,"  and  it  is  for  you  alone 
to  say  whether  you  will  come  out  like  bur 
nished  gold,  or  scarred  and  blackened,  weak 
and  puny  in  body  and  soul.  Don't  depend 
on  your  own  strength. 

The  writer  is  not  a  preacher  or  exhorter, 
but  a  plain  business  man,  who  speaks  from 
experience. 

The  world  is  yours — go  take  it. 

Richard  has  built  up  a  noble,  unselfish 
character  by  Divine  help,  but  he  is  not  yet 
above  sore  temptation,  as  we  shall  see. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 

RICHARD'S  TRIBUTE 

THERE  was  a  wedding  at  the  Cloverdale 
rancho — a  grand  one.  Not  grand  because  of 
any  great  show  or  foolish  formalities,  but 
grand  as  a  simple,  sensible  celebration  of  a 
great  event.  A  lovable  character,  a  pure 
and  tender  plant,  was  to  be  taken  from  that 
home  and  transplanted  into  another.  A 
man — not  rich  in  gold  or  silver — a  man, 
strong,  noble,  dependable,  had  come  into  and 
become  a  strong,  new  branch  of  that  family 
tree.  The  neighbors  and  friends  were  there. 
The  house  and  grounds  were,  for  the  time, 
given  to  them.  The  good  priest,  who  had 
officiated  at  her  mother's  wedding,  united 
with  a  minister  from  the  city  in  performing 
the  ceremony.  Creed  and  dogma  were  for 
the  time  laid  aside,  and  an  atmosphere  of 
peace  and  harmony  pervaded  the  beautiful 
and  solemn  ceremony  that  gave  Rosalind  to 
the  "Knight  Errant"  who  had  come  to  claim 

367 


368  UP  THE  GRADE 

his  own  and  take  her  away  to  a  new  life. 
The  carriage  drove  away  amid  the  usual 
shower  of  rice  and  old  shoes  and  the  tearful 
and  laughing  farewells  of  relatives  and  friends. 

There  was  one  who  had  been  invited  and 
who  would  indeed  have  been  a  welcome 
guest,  but  he  was  holding  the  responsible 
position  which  kept  the  experienced  Mr. 
Leslie  busy  when  he  was  there,  and  was  there 
fore  obliged  to  send  his  regrets. 

In  his  letter  of  heartfelt  congratulations, 
he  said:  "But  I  cannot  come — the  mantle 
of  the  bridegroom  has  fallen  on  me,  and  it 
must  be  worn  with  honor." 

Now  that  it  was  settled  that  Richard  was 
to  winter  at  the  Loop,  he  set  himself  about 
preparing  winter  quarters.  There  would  be 
rain  and  probably  some  snow.  In  this  work 
he  was  aided  by  Mr.  Thomas,  who  volunteered 
to  build  them  a  "California  shack."  It  was 
built  of  logs  with  a  tight  roof  of  shakes,  and 
he  laid  up  a  wide  rock  fireplace,  that  made 
it  cheerful  in  rainy  weather.  For  his  mother's 
sleeping  quarters  they  made  a  good  roof  and 
floor  of  flat  rocks,  and  put  up  light  canvas 
for  the  sides  so  there  would  be  plenty  of 


UP  THE  GRADE  369 

fresh  air.  During  the  summer  months  the 
nights  are  dry.  There  is  no  dew  in  that  part 
of  "the  range,"  and  in  winter  the  weather  is 
usually  bright  and  warm  with  an  occasional 
rainy  spell  lasting  two  or  three  days,  and 
some  snow  on  the  higher  mountains. 

Mrs.  William's  health  was  so  improved  that 
the  winter  weather  was  beneficial.  She  en 
joyed  her  new  quarters  greatly,  and  seldom 
left  the  canvas  up  on  all  sides,  leaving  the 
windward  side  open,  so  she  really  slept  in  the 
open  air  the  entire  year. 

Thus  the  time  sped  by,  and  the  "Golden 
Spike"  was  driven  at  the  meeting  point  in 
the  Solidad  Canyon.  The  road,  about  which 
so  much  doubt  had  been  expressed,  was  com 
pleted  and  the  trains  were  put  on. 

Richard  was  called  to  the  general  office, 
his  work  and  management  highly  compli 
mented  and  he  was  asked  to  go  to  Los  Angeles 
and  take  the  position  of  assistant  engineer 
on  another  transcontinental  road,  for  which 
the  preliminary  lines  were  being  run.  He 
accepted  the  position  and  went  back  to  his 
mother  with  passes  for  both  to  Los  Angeles. 
She  thought  she  was  now  well  and  could  safely 


370  UP  THE  GRADE 

go  back  to  her  home,  but  he  insisted  that 
she  spend  a  few  weeks  with  him  in  and  around 
Los  Angeles.  A  depot  had  been  built  and 
a  station  established  just  below  the  Loop 
where  the  road  straightens,  making  a  suitable 
place  for  siding  to  be  put  in.  This  station 
was  named  Keene,  after  a  noted  citizen,  which 
name  it  still  bears. 

It  was  with  some  sadness  that  they  parted 
from  the  spot  where  they  had  spent  so  many 
happy  days,  and  which  had  brought  so  much 
joy  and  gladness  to  their  hearts  by  bringing 
her  back  to  health.  As  they  were  leaving, 
Richard  waxed  poetical,  and  upon  the  smooth 
surface  of  a  board  taken  from  a  cracker  box, 
he  wrote : 

"There  may  be  some  spot  that  I  never  have  seen, 
Where  the  sun  shines  more  brightly,  the  meadows  more 

green; 

But  give  me  the  mountain  peaks,  valleys  between 
The  canyon  cleft  mountains, 
The  sage  scented  mountains, 
The  life-saving  mountains 
At  Keene!" 

This  he  nailed  to  the  great  pine,  under 
which  his  mother  had  slept  for  nearly  a  year. 


UP  THE  GRADE  371 

"This  is  my  tribute.  I  wish  I  could  do  it 
better,  but  I'm  not  a  poet." 

Not  a  day  had  passed  that  they  had  not 
given  thanks  to  the  great  Healer — whose 
transfiguration  took  place  on  a  mountain 
top — for  the  blessings  he  had  bestowed  upon 
them. 

Their  camp  was  left  standing.  Little 
"Mexy,"  with  his  saddle  and  bridle,  was  given 
to  Ruth  Thomas.  The  little  animal  had  been 
a  source  of  much  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Williams, 
carrying  her  about  and  making  it  possible 
for  her  to  return  the  calls  of  the  good  ladies 
who  had  ministered  to  her  during  her  days 
of  feebleness.  After  all  the  kind  moun 
taineers  had  been  remembered  by  some  token 
of  their  appreciation,  they  took  the  train  at 
Keene  Station  for  Los  Angeles.  They  reached 
there  after  a  pleasant  ride  of  six  hours,  or  in 
a  little  more  than  half  as  many  hours  as  it 
took  days  for  them  to  come  up  from  Caliente, 
less  than  twelve  miles. 

Richard  found  that  he  could  have  a  few 
days  to  himself  before  entering  on  the  work 
in  his  new  field. 

After  making  themselves  presentable,  they 


372  UP  THE  GRADE 

started  out  sight-seeing.  They  first  went  to 
the  beach,  as  all  tourists  do,  and  sat  together 
for  hours,  watching  the  white  steeds  of  the 
ocean  with  foaming  nostrils  chase  each  other 
up  the  shining  sand.  They  visited  the  harbor, 
then  a  little  bay  half  hidden  by  Dead  Man's 
Island,  now  enlarged  by  men  of  Richard's 
profession  to  a  broad  and  deep  harbor. 

While  these  words  are  being  penned  in  the 
hours  between  midnight  and  dawn,  the  sound 
of  the  beating  breakers  fills  the  room,  and 
their  diapason  is  broken  only  by  the  staccato 
of  the  barking  seals  from  the  point  below 
the  inlet,  where  mother  seals  are  frolicking 
with  their  babies  on  the  sand;  and  beyond 
these  in  the  offing  floats  at  this  moment,  in 
pacific  repose,  the  great  fleet  of  war  ships, 
under  the  flag  that  knows  no  aristocracy 
greater  than  true  manhood — the  tri-colored 
emblem  of  a  nation  whose  benign  form  of 
government  makes  it  possible  for  the  boy 
from  the  home  of  respectable  poverty  to  rise 
and  fill  with  dignity  and  honor  any  position 
up  to  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States. 

They  visited  the  hamlets  that  dotted  the 
foothills,  the  orange  and  lemon  groves,  the 


UP  THE  GRADE  373 

orchards  and  vineyards,  some  of  the  old 
missions,  and  breathed  the  air,  which  to  them 
seemed  like  the  very  elixir  of  life. 

The  time  had  come  when  she  could  safely 
return  to  her  loved  ones  at  home.  When 
Richard  saw  her  on  the  train  that  would  bear 
her  away,  neither  felt  the  pang  of  parting. 
They  were  both  overjoyed  to  know  she  would 
so  soon  carry  joy  to  the  hearts  of  those  who 
had  so  patiently  awaited  her  return. 

Her  arrival  at  Black  Hawk  Spring  was  the 
occasion  of  much  rejoicing.  She  took  new 
life  into  her  home,  and  never  tired  of  reciting 
incidents  of  her  trip,  or  describing  the  places 
she  had  seen.  Among  the  first  callers  were 
Mrs.  Reese  and  Annie.  They  were  amazed 
at  the  change  in  her  and  the  stories  she  told 
them.  With  a  mother's  pride  she  told  them 
of  the  part  Richard  had  taken,  and  of  his 
success — how  he  had  been  promoted,  and 
the  high  esteem  in  which  he  was  held  by  the 
officials  of  the  railroad.  She  kept  nothing 
back.  The  interest  Mrs.  Reese  took  in  it  all 
was  second  only  to  hers.  She  learned  from 
them  that  Annie  was  home  for  a  short  visit, 
and  would  soon  return  to  finish  her  musical 


374  UP  THE  GRADE 

education.  When  Mrs.  Williams  asked  her 
what  she  intended  to  do  after  she  had  finished, 
Annie  gave  her  an  evasive  answer,  which 
caused  Mrs.  Williams  much  uneasiness  as  she 
thought  it  over  afterwards.  She  said  nothing, 
neither  did  she  mention  it  to  Richard  in  her 
letters.  In  her  own  mind  she  felt  that  Annie 
was  really  lost  to  Richard.  Her  heart  ached 
for  him. 


CHAPTER  XLV 
HE  HAD  DECIDED 

A  PART  of  the  road  to  which  Richard  had 
been  transferred  was  already  completed,  and 
trains  were  running  over  it.  He  went  by 
train  as  far  as  it  ran;  and  then,  joining  the 
party  of  engineers  who  were  running  the  pre 
liminary  lines  for  the  extension,  assumed  con 
trol  of  the  department  that  had  been  assigned 
to  him.  After  he  had  been  some  time  in  his 
new  position,  he  was  invited  to  ride  over  the 
road  with  some  of  the  officials  in  their  special 
car,  and  here  made  the  acquaintance  of  some 
he  had  not  met  before.  He  had  been  so 
highly  spoken  of  to  them  by  his  former  em 
ployers  that  those  who  were  in  authority 
asked  him  many  pointed  questions,  calling 
out  his  opinion  and  testing  his  judgment. 
The  answers  he  gave  them  showed  that  he 
did  not  stop  studying  when  he  graduated. 
When  they  asked  his  opinion  as  to  the  cost  of 
construction  per  mile  over  such  a  country  as 

375 


376  UP  THE   GRADE 

they  were  then  going,  he  gave  it  promptly, 
and  they  told  him  he  had  hit  very  close  to 
the  mark,  they  knowing  exactly  what  it  had 
cost  to  build  it. 

As  the  train  stopped  at  one  of  the  stations 
on  the  desert,  it  was  discovered  that  some 
tramps  were  stealing  a  ride.  Richard  saw 
them  put  off,  and  among  their  number,  he 
saw  Bill  Jackson.  It  had  been  so  long  since 
Jackson  had  seen  him — and  he  had  changed 
considerably,  now  wearing  a  moustache  and 
being  older  and  more  matured — that  Jackson 
did  not  recognize  him.  Richard  saw  this  and 
went  down  and  spoke  to  him,  asking  him  if 
he  was  "looking  for  work."  He  replied  that 
he  was  an  operator  and  had  had  a  good  job 
on  the  U.  P.,  but  got  drunk  one  night  and  ran 
two  trains  together  by  a  "bulled  order." 
Richard  told  him,  if  he  thought  he  could  keep 
sober,  he  would  give  him  work  with  the  sur 
veyors.  He  promised  to  do  so,  and  Richard 
bought  his  dinner  and  sent  him  to  "  the  front." 
After  Jackson  heard  Richard's  name,  it 
dawned  upon  him  who  it  was  that  had  be 
friended  him.  He  went  to  him  with  a  "  hang 
dog"  expression  on  his  face,  and  said:  "It 


UP  THE  GRADE  377 


has  just  got  through  my  thick  skull  who  you 


are." 


'''  Well?"  said  Richard. 

"I  don't  know  why  you  should  help  me," 
said  Jackson,  "  I  never  did  you  a  good  turn. 
I  did  you  all  the  harm  I  could.  Belden  set 
me  up  to  it  at  first.  That  was  me  that  jumped 
onto  you  that  night  in  the  grove.  I  told  you 
then  you  would  know  me  sometime,  but  I 
did  not  think  it  would  be  in  this  way.  I 
changed  that  message  about  the  cattle,  and 
here  you  are  helping  me  out." 

"Oh,  that  is  ancient  history,"  said  Richard. 
"We  cannot  change  what  is  past.  Do  not 
mention  it  again.  We  ought  to  profit  by  the 
mistakes  of  the  past." 

"You  bet  I  will,"  said  Jackson. 

From  that  time  he  was  one  of  Richard's 
most  devoted  employees.  He  would  have 
done  any  menial  employment  for  him,  even  to 
the  blacking  of  his  shoes.  He  thought  it  an 
honor  to  say:  "I  knew  Mr.  Williams  back 
east."  Richard  avoided  conversation  with 
him  which  led  to  any  reference  to  the  past. 
He  was  afraid  he  would  touch  upon  a  subject 
that  was  too  sacred  to  him  to  be  talked  of. 


378  UP  THE  GRADE 

There  was  a  question  to  be  decided  as  to 
which  of  two  different  surveys  the  road  would 
be  built  on.  Each  led  through  a  fertile  section 
that  could  be  irrigated;  and  with  transporta 
tion  facilities  the  land  would  be  valuable ;  and 
each  offered  a  desirable  location  for  a  town 
site.  The  road  must  pass  through  one  or  the 
other.  There  was  no  great  difference  be 
tween  them  in  the  distance  or  cost  of  con 
struction.  Richard  had  made  careful  sur 
veys  of  each  and  had  estimated  the  cost  of 
construction  both  ways. 

There  was  a  bitter  fight  on  between  two 
syndicates.  Each  had  offered  the  company 
the  right  of  way  and  a  bonus.  After  the  pre 
liminary  surveys  were  completed  and  the 
estimates  made,  and  before  Richard  had  made 
his  report,  he  went  to  Los  Angeles — where 
his  business  often  called  him — and  a  messen 
ger  called  at  his  room  at  the  hotel  with  a 
letter,  requesting  him  to  call  at  a  certain 
office  that  evening.  He  found  a  gentleman 
waiting  for  him  in  an  elegantly  furnished 
private  office,  who  proceeded  at  once  to  busi 
ness  by  asking  him  which  route  his  report 
would  favor.  Richard  told  him  it  favored 


UP  THE   GRADE  379 

neither — that  he  should  submit  the  facts  and 
the  company  would  decide  the  matter.  He 
asked  the  gentleman  bluntly  which  one  he 
was  interested  in.  He  hesitated  and  tried 
to  evade  the  question,  but  after  he  was  told 
that  unless  he  saw  fit  to  talk  frankly  and 
state  the  object  of  the  interview,  it  would  at 
once  be  brought  to  a  close,  he  admitted  that 
he  was  the  attorney  for  the  syndicate  which 
wanted  the  south  line  built.  Then,  assuming 
a  bland  and  confidential  tone,  he  said:  "You 
can  readily  appreciate  the  fact,  Mr.  Williams, 
that  it  makes  but  little  difference  to  the  com 
pany  which  way  it  builds.  If  there  is  any 
difference,  it  is  in  our  favor.  The  company 
gets  the  bonus  in  either  case.  A  few  words 
of  recommendation  from  you  would  turn  it 
in  our  favor.  We  want  those  words,  but  do 
not  ask  them  for  nothing."  And  he  took  a 
large  package  of  Government  bank  notes 
from  a  drawer  and  laid  them  on  the  desk,  say 
ing  :  "  Checks  and  drafts  tell  tales — this  stuff 
never  does." 

When  he  saw  that  Richard  hesitated,  he 
went  on:  "This  is  a  clean  transaction,  Mr. 
Williams.  You  will  not  be  breaking  faith 


380  UP  THE  GRADE 

with  the  company.  It  is  every  man's  duty 
to  look  out  for  himself  when  he  can  do  so 
without  injury  to  others.  I  do  not  ask  you 
to  sign  any  agreement.  Give  me  your  word 
that  you  will  throw  your  influence  our  way, 
and  take  this  little  package  home  with  you." 
Seeing  Richard  again  hesitate,  he  said: 
"They  all  do  it.  That's  the  way  these  big 
fellows  got  their  start  and  got  into  the  swim. 
I've  been  through  the  mill.  You  can  drudge 
all  your  life  on  a  salary;  or,  with  your  head 
for  business,  you  can  be  in  the  swim,  and  be 
one  of  the  big  stockholders  in  a  few  years." 
And  he  went  on  and  told  him  some  of  the 
secrets  of  watered  stock,  and  carrying  on 
great  enterprises  on  money  procured  from 
bonds,  which  enrich  the  promoters  without 
the  hazard  of  large  investments  on  their  part. 
"All  a  man  wants  is  a  start,  and  here  is 
yours,"  he  said,  turning  up  the  corners  of 
some  of  the  bills,  showing  their  large  denomi 
nation.  Seeing  that  Richard  was  not  yet 
ready  to  accept  his  offer,  and  being  deter 
mined  to  carry  his  point,  he  said:  "There 
will  be  a  meeting  of  the  directors  in  Chicago 
soon.  You  will  be  called  there,  if  you  have 


UP  THE   GRADE  381 

not  already  been.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will 
do,  if  you  do  not  decide  before.  I  will  be  in 

Chicago  at  the  Hotel.  Promise  me 

that  you  will  see  me  there  before  you  make 
your  report  if  we  do  not  settle  this  before 
you  go.  I  shall  go,  anyway,  to  press  our 
claims  before  the  directors." 

"All  right,"  said  Richard,  "I  will  promise 
you  that  much." 

After  Richard  left  him,  he  was  in  a  deep 
study.  He  had  not  told  the  attorney  that 
the  south  line  had  some  small  advantage 
over  the  other,  and  that,  if  his  opinion  were 
asked,  he  should  recommend  that.  In  such 
a  case,  what  wrong  would  there  be  in  taking 
the  "fee,"  as  the  attorney  called  it,  hoping 
thus  to  reach  his  professional  pride.  He 
passed  a  sleepless  night.  Here  was  the  means 
to  put  him  where  he  could  give  Annie  a  fine 
home  and  begin  life  on  a  large  scale  at  once. 
There  was  no  need  of  longer  delay.  Then 
he  thought  that,  without  it,  he  need  no  longer 
delay  in  telling  her  all.  He  had  some  money 
laid  up  and  his  prospects  were  good.  The 
temptation  was  a  great  one — the  greatest 
he  had  ever  experienced. 


382  UP  THE   GRADE 

While  he  was  revolving  it  in  his  mind,  a 
telegram  was  brought  to  him,  asking  him  to 
"take  all  data  of  new  extension  and  be  at 
meeting  in  Chicago  the  20th. "  There  was 
no  time  to  be  lost.  He  got  ready  and  took 
the  first  train.  As  he  went  back  on  the  road 
over  which  he  had  come  with  the  cattle  train 
and  saw  the  familiar  sights — even  the  station 
where  he  got  the  telegram  from  Jackson — he 
thought  how  all  his  hopes  so  far  had  been 
realized,  and  how  many  times  the  leadings 
had  been  so  unmistakably  providential.  How 
often  had  the  words  of  Mr.  Yale  proved  true. 
There  had  been  dark  hours,  and  many  times 
his  pathway  had  seemed  clouded,  but  all  had 
come  out  well. 

When  he  got  on  the  train  that  would  land 
him  in  Chicago,  he  was  going  through  one 
of  the  day  coaches,  when  he  saw  in  a  rack  a 
leather-covered  Bible,  which  in  those  days 
were  kept  in  the  cars  by  someone,  possibly 
the  Bible  Society. 

He  dropped  into  a  seat,  and,  taking  the 
book,  held  it  in  his  hands  for  a  moment. 
Then,  as  the  question  that  was  haunting  his 
mind  and  which  must  be  answered  soon, 


UP  THE  GRADE  383 

came  back  to  him,  he  thought:  "I  will  open 
this  at  a  verse  and  see  if  I  find  anything  in  it 
to  help  me  to  decide. "  He  opened  it,  and 
read  the  first  verse  that  caught  his  eye. 

"In  all  thy  ways,  acknowledge  Him,  and 
He  will  direct  thy  paths. "  He  closed  the 
book  and  replaced  it  in  the  rack.  A  feeling 
of  peaceful  rest  took  possession  of  him.  He 
had  decided. 

He  was  called  upon  for  his  report.  He 
made  it  clear  and  complete.  One  of  the 
directors  asked  him:  "Would  you  recom 
mend  the  south  route?" 

Richard  said :  "  I  have  not  made  any  recom 
mendations.  I  have  given  the  facts  and  do 
not  presume  to  offer  my  personal  opinion." 

The  President,  who  was  presiding,  said: 
"We  shall  be  glad  to  have  your  opinion,  Mr. 
Williams,  and  any  suggestions  you  may  offer." 

"Well,  then,"  he  answered,  "since  the 
bonus  offered  by  the  two  syndicates  are  so 
nearly  the  same,  I  should  give  the  south  syndi 
cate  an  opportunity  to  raise  their  offer,  which 
I  have  reason  to  believe  they  will  do,  and 
build  the  south  line." 

One  of    the    gray-haired    directors — whose 


384  UP  THE   GRADE 

experience  in  such  affairs  made  the  whole 
matter  plain  to  him — said:  "May  I  ask,  Mr. 
Williams,  why  you  believe  they  would  pay 
a  greater  bonus  than  they  have  offered?" 

Richard  colored  and  hesitated. 

"  Have  they  not  offered  you  a  fee  to  report 
in  favor  of  the  south  line?" 

"I  have  been  interviewed  on  the  subject," 
he  admitted. 

"And  you  did  not  accept  it,  although  you 
thought  that  the  better  one  for  the  company?" 

"It  offers  some  slight  advantage,  as  the 
report  shows,"  he  answered. 

Springing  to  his  feet,  the  director  said,  ad 
dressing  the  Chair:  "I  move  that  the  report 
and  suggestions  be  adopted;  and  that  the 
thoroughness  and  faithfulness  of  Mr.  Williams 
be  commended." 

The  motion  was  carried  unanimously,  and 
Richard's  work  before  the  directors  was  done. 
Before  going  to  the  meeting,  Richard  had 
called  upon  the  attorney  as  agreed,  and  told 
him  that  he  should  "make  no  recommenda 
tions  in  his  report;  and  if  asked  for  an  opinion, 
it  would  be  given  free  and  unbiased.  If  his 
clients  wished  to  pay  any  greater  sum  than 


UP  THE  GRADE  385 

they  had  named,  that  should  be  offered  to 
the  company  direct  and  not  as  a  bribe  to  an 
employe." 

"Your  conduct  in  this  matter  beats  the 
devil!"  said  the  attorney. 

"  I  hope  it  will,"  said  Richard,  as  he  walked 
away. 

Before  the  directors'  meeting  was  ad 
journed,  the  president,  turning  to  the  general 
manager  of  the  road,  said:  "That  young  man 
would  be  valuable  in  any  department.  You 
should  keep  your  eye  on  him  and  advance  him 
as  rapidly  as  his  experience  will  warrant." 

Richard  saw  his  superior  officers,  and  asked 
for  a  few  days'  "lay  off,"  and  passes  to  his 
home  and  also  to  New  York  and  Boston, 
which  were  cheerfully  granted.  The  general 
manager  congratulated  him  on  "the  hit"  he 
had  made  with  the  directors. 

Richard  answered  that  "he  deserved  no 
commendations  for  simply  doing  his  duty." 

He  little  dreamed  that  in  due  time  he  would 
be  the  successor  of  the  good  man  who  was 
now  congratulating  him. 

Richard  did  not  know  whether  he  would 
find  Annie  at  home  or  in  New  York.  He 


386  UP  THE  GRADE 

proposed  to  find  her  in  either  case,  unless — 
but  he  would  not  allow  himself  to  consider 
the  possibility  of  it  being  too  late. 

That  evening  he  walked  unannounced  into 
the  Williams'  cottage.  The  scene  can  better 
be  imagined  than  described. 

When  he  found  an  opportunity  to  speak 
to  his  mother  alone,  he  asked  where  Annie 
was.  She  told  him  that  she  was  in  New  York, 
and  the  next  week  she  was  to  make  her  first 
appearance  in  public. 

The  next  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Reese  called 
on  him,  and  began  to  make  very  humble 
apologies  for  their  treatment  of  him  in  the 
past,  but  he  stopped  them  and  assured  them 
that  from  what  he  had  since  learned,  they 
were  justified  in  their  actions.  They  talked 
freely  of  Annie  and  showed  great  pride  at  her 
achievements. 


CHAPTER  XLVI 
THE  GRAND  CONCERT 

THE  Warburtons  were  on  their  very  tip 
toes  of  expectation.  Their  plans  had  all 
worked  out  beautifully.  On  the  coming 
Thursday  evening,  "the  beautiful  protege 
of  the  popular  Mrs.  Warburton  was  to  make 
her  debut,"  was  about  the  way  that  lady 
would  have  been  pleased  to  have  the  an 
nouncement  made.  She  went  on  to  New 
York  some  days  before  the  day  set  for  the 
great  event,  to  personally  supervise  the  selec 
tion  of  the  costume  of  the  debutante.  When 
she  laid  her  plans  before  Annie  she  was  sur 
prised  and  hurt  to  find  that  they  did  not  meet 
with  her  approval.  As  would  be  expected, 
the  gown  she  proposed  was  to  be  of  such 
gauzy  substance  and  of  such  exaggerated 
type  of  the  "evening"  dress  as  to  appear  to 
people  of  sense  actually  immodest.  When 
Annie  brought  out  the  gown  which  she  had 
had  made  for  the  occasion,  and  she  saw  that, 

387 


388  UP  THE  GRADE 

while  it  was  made  of  costly  and  rich  material 
of  an  elegant  design,  it  was  really  what  cloth 
ing  should  be,  a  covering  for  the  body,  her 
disappointment  was  too  great  to  be  con 
cealed.  To  her  the  cut  of  that  gown,  especi 
ally  the  sleeves  and  neck  was  of  importance 
paramount  to  all  others.  It  was  at  that 
moment  the  one  and  only  great  thought 
which  occupied  the  space  where  the  seat  of 
thought  and  reason  is  supposed  to  be  located. 

She  said:  "When  you  come  on  the  stage 
with  the  others,  you  will  appear  ridiculous. 
I  shall  be  ashamed  of  you." 

"Will  not  my  costume  be  as  rich  and  ex 
pensive  as  those  usually  worn  on  such  occa 
sions?"  asked  Annie. 

"Yes,  but  it  will  not  show  such  exquisite 
taste  and  style — it  will  not  be  as  striking." 

"That  may  be  true,  but  I  hope  it  will  be 
as  becoming.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  copy 
after  them.  I  shall  dress  as  I  think  most  be 
coming  and  natural." 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  see  you  so  obstinate, 
my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Warburton.  "You 
should  remember  that  this  is  to  be  your  in 
troduction  to  society,  and  select  society,  such 


UP  THE  GRADE  389 

as  our  set,  is  very  discriminating.  Who 
knows  but  your  stubbornness  may  lose  you 
the  chance  of  a  husband  in  our  set.  If  you 
will  not  listen  to  reason,  you  will  have  only 
yourself  to  blame,  should  the  consequences 
prove  serious." 

Annie  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile,  but 
she  answered  good-naturedly:  "I  am  not 
looking  for  a  husband  who  has  so  little  sense 
as  to  fall  in  love  with  a  sleeveless  and  neck- 
less  gown.  I  am  going  to  have  a  business 
man,  who  knows  how  to  do  something  if  I 
ever  get  one." 

When  Richard  called  at  the  office  to  secure 
a  ticket  to  the  grand  concert,  he  was  told  that 
every  seat  in  the  great  opera  house  was  sold. 
They  might  get  him  a  seat  in  one  of  the  boxes 
that  was  taken  by  a  private  family  who  could 
not  use  it  all.  If  he  would  call  an  hour  later 
they  would  let  him  know.  He  called,  se 
cured  the  seat  and  was  there  early.  When 
the  "family,"  consisting  of  a  gentleman  and 
his  wife  came  in,  Richard  recognized  the 
gentleman,  and  was  in  turn  recognized  by 
him. 

He  said:    "I  never  forget  a  face,  though 


390  UP  THE  GRADE 

yours  is  changed  some.  My  name  is  Wads- 
worth." 

"Yes,"  said  Richard,  "I  remember  you — 
my  name  is  Wrliams,  Richard  Williams. " 

"I  knew  it  was  Richard,  but  I  never  heard 
any  other." 

He  asked  Richard  where  he  had  been,  and 
he  told  him  briefly,  and  also  what  he  was 
doing  now.  When  he  mentioned  the  road  he 
was  connected  with,  Mr.  Wadsworth  said: 
"I  am  a  stockholder  in  that  road,  and  last 
week  I  was  elected  a  director,  I  am  told.  I 
was  not  there." 

The  curtain  raised  and  the  grand  concert 
began.  When  the  singers  came  on  for  the 
grand  chorus,  Richard  could  see  no  one  but 
Annie.  The  beautiful  girl  of  his  life's  dreams 
had  developed  into  a  still  more  lovely  woman. 
As  her  eyes  wandered  over  the  audience,  they 
fell  upon  him.  He  thought  she  recognized 
him.  Her  face  lighted  up  and  the  color 
mounted  to  her  cheeks.  She  was  not  far 
from  him,  but  he  had  changed  and  had 
thought  she  would  not  know  him.  She 
might  look  that  way  again.  When  the  time 
came  for  her  solo,  she  stepped  forward,  easily 


UP  THE  GRADE  391 

and  naturally,  and  turning  slightly,  she  looked 
for  an  instant  squarely  at  him — that  same 
look  that  he  had  based  his  hopes  upon.  His 
heart  gave  a  great  bound.  She  still  loved 
him! 

As  her  wonderful  voice  filled  the  house, 
the  audience  was  carried  away,  and  when 
she  ceased  the  applause  was  deafening.  She 
responded  to  their  repeated  calls,  and 
modestly  sang  a  simple  melody.  The  effect 
was  magical.  Her  sweet  and  expressive 
voice,  of  warm  and  magnetic  quality,  and 
her  charming  personality  had  touched  the 
hearts  of  her  auditors.  She  was  the  favorite 
of  the  hour,  and  when  she  retired,  a  sup 
pressed  murmur  of  admiration  ran  through 
the  audience. 

Richard,  too,  had  been  deeply  moved,  and 
wondered  if  he  could  prevail  upon  this  won 
derfully  gifted  woman  to  lay  aside  a  brilliant 
career  to  become  the  wife  of  a  plain  business 
man  like  himself.  With  his  usual  courage, 
he  determined  to  lose  no  time  in  finding  out. 
He  would  take  his  chance  in  winhing  or  losing 
all.  He  called  an  usher  and  sent  in  his  card. 
He  returned  with  the  answer  that 'she  would 


392  UP  THE  GRADE 

receive  a  few  of  her  friends  at  the  close  of  the 
concert  in  the  reception  room  at  the  right  of 
the  stage,  "and  would  be  pleased  to  see  him." 

When  he  found  her,  she  was  surrounded 
by  a  circle  of  admirers  of  both  sexes,  receiv 
ing  their  congratulations.  When  she  saw 
him,  with  a  glad  smile  and  heightened  color, 
she  stepped  forward  and  gave  him  her  hand, 
presenting  him  to  those  around  her  as  "my 
friend,  Mr.  Williams,  from  California." 

The  young  men  of  "our  set,"  and  especially 
Vincent  Warburton,  were  not  slow  to  see  the 
preference  shown  for  the  Californian.  Mrs. 
Warburton  scrutinized  him  with  a  critical 
eye,  but  even  that  recognized  leader  of  "  our 
set"  could  see  nothing  to  criticize  in  his 
manner  or  attire. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  congratulations  and 
general  conversation,  Richard  asked  if  he 
should  have  a  carriage  called  and  see  her 
home.  She  assented  graciously  and  excused 
herself  to  her  little  group  of  admirers.  The 
young  men,  some  of  whom  had  been  enter 
taining  high  hopes  of  winning  her  regard, 
looked  with  envious  eyes  upon  this  stalwart 
and  distinguished  stranger,  who  had  appeared 


The  carriage  stopped  before  an  old,  Jiomelike  residence. 


UP  THE  GRADE  393 

so  unexpectedly  in  their  midst  and  carried 
off  the  star  of  the  evening  with  the  manner 
of  a  young  Lochinvar. 

While  the  Badger  Boy  and  the  Badger  Girl 
were  being  rapidly  whirled  away  from  the 
opera  house,  at  the  first  lapse  in  the  conver 
sation,  Richard,  in  his  usual  direct  way,  but 
not  without  trepidation,  said:  "Annie,  I  have 
made  this  trip  to  the  east  solely  to  see  you. 
I  have  loved  you  all  my  life;  but  I  made  a 
covenant  with  myself  a  long  time  ago  that 
when  I  could  offer  you  something  more  than 
promises,  if  at  that  time  you  were  free,  I 
would  speak  to  you.  Annie,  will  you  be  my 
wife?"  She  turned  her  beautiful,  illumined 
face  to  him,  and  putting  her  hand  in  his,  said 
simply,  "Yes,  Richard." 

The  carriage  stopped  before  an  old,  home 
like  residence.  "This  is  the  place  I  call  home 
in  New  York,"  she  said.  "My  uncle  and 
aunt  live  here.  They  are  old  people  and 
there  is  no  one  with  them  but  me,  excepting, 
of  course,  the  servants." 

When  they  had  reached  the  seclusion  of 
her  home,  Richard  gathered  her  to  him  in 
his  strong  arms,  and  pressed  his  lips  to  hers. 


394  UP  THE  GRADE 

"Annie,"  he  said  holding  her  tight,  "I  was 
afraid  I  would  lose  you.  I  have  waited  a 
long  time."  She  hid  her  head  on  his  shoulder. 
She  was  softly  crying. 

"What  is  it,  Annie?  Do  you  regret  giving 
up  all  this  brilliant  society  and  prospects 
for  me?" 

"No,  Richard,"  she  smiled  through  her 
tears — "  I  am  very,  very  happy.  I  wouldn't 
exchange  for  the  glory  of  the  whole  world." 

In  the  great  sleeping  city  that  night  were 
two  happy  hearts,  which  were  lifted  in  thanks 
to  Hun  who  sanctioned  the  pure  and  sacred 
bonds  of  a  plighted  love  such  as  theirs,  and 
sanctified  it  by  His  presence  at  the  marriage 
feast. 


CHAPTER  XLVII 
CONCLUSION 

THERE  was  an  earnest  consultation  that 
night  at  a  fashionable  hotel  where  the  War- 
burtons  were  stopping,  between  the  mother,  her 
son  and  daughter.  Vincent  was  wild  with  jeal 
ousy  and  disappointment.  He  displayed  his 
true  character.  His  conversation  was  mixed 
with  oaths  and  threatenings.  His  mother  ad 
vised  him  to  go  at  once  and  propose  to  Annie. 
She  was  indignant,  and  said :  "  How  could  she 
be  so  ungrateful  after  all  we  have  done  for  her?" 

"Ungrateful,"  said  Vincent.  "What  have 
we  done  for  her?  She  has  never  asked  or 
accepted  a  favor  from  us.  She  has  been  en 
tirely  independent  of  us  in  every  way." 

"Have  we  not  condescended  to  invite  her 
to  our  house?  Have  I  not  been  humiliated 
by  her  meeting  society  people,  and  have  I 
not  been  obliged  to  tell  a  good  many  little 
fibs  to  keep  her  plain  birth  and  family  from 
being  known  in  our  set?" 

395 


396  UP  THE  GRADE 

When  Vincent  rang  the  bell,  and  the  servant 
asked  him  into  the  parlor  the  next  day,  he 
found  the  man  from  California  there.  Vincent 
told  her  that  he  had  come  to  invite  her  to 
spend  the  day  with  them.  Annie,  who  never 
had  had  more  than  a  slight  suspicion  that 
Vincent  might  possibly  give  her  occasion  to 
refuse  to  marry  him — without  thinking,  in 
the  excess  of  her  own  joy,  that  what  she  said 
would  carry  unpleasant  feelings  to  the  War- 
burton  home,  but  that  they  would  be  pleased 
to  be  the  first  ones  to  hear  it  and  to  congratu 
late  her — said:  "I  have  some  news  for  your 
mother  and  Vivian.  I  am  engaged  to  be 
married  to  Mr.  Williams.  You  are  the  first 
to  know,  and  I  want  your  good  wishes.  I 
have  not  seen  Mr.  Williams  for  a  long  time, 
and  this  first  day  we  want  to  spend  together. 
I  am  sure  your  mother  will  understand  and 
excuse  me."  Vincent,  who  had  been  cherish 
ing  a  faint  hope  that  he  might  be  mistaken  in 
thinking  the  affair  settled  between  Annie  and 
the  Californian,  had  turned  very  pale,  and 
summoning  his  self-command,  hastily  mur 
mured  a  few  embarrassed  words  of  congratu 
lation  and  strode  abruptly  from  the  room. 


UP  THE  GRADE  397 

The  Warburtons  left  the  city  that  day  and 
Annie  never  saw  them  again.  She  received 
a  letter  from  Vivian  a  few  days  later,  express 
ing  her  disappointment,  but  her  heart  was 
unchanged.  She  said  that  her  mother  had 
commanded  her  to  break  the  ties  which  had 
been  so  dear  between  them,  but  she  did  so 
with  great  sorrow. 

When  Richard  spoke  of  setting  the  date  of 
their  wedding  at  an  early  day,  she  said :  "  No, 
sir!  I  am  not  going  to  be  married  without 
a  courtship.  I  must  have  a  great  big  bunch 
of  love  letters  to  tie  up  with  a  blue  ribbon, 
and  when  I  am  old  I  can  take  them  out  and 
read  them  and  live  all  this  happy  time  over 
again.  You  must  go  back  to  your  work 
and  write  to  me  every  day.  Besides,  Richard, 
I  owe  it  to  my  dear  father  and  mother  to  give 
them  my  companionship  for  a  little  while 
before  they  lose  me  altogether." 

While  they  were  talking  a  servant  brought 
her  a  letter.  She  opened  it  and  they  read  it 
together.  It  was  from  a  manager,  offering 
her  an  engagement — a  flattering  one.  Richard 
said:  "I  suppose  you  will  accept.  You  had 
better  let  me  answer  that  letter." 


398  UP  THE  GRADE 

"It  won't  take  long  to  answer  it,"  she  said. 
"This  girl  is  going  to  sing  in  the  wigwam  of 
the  great  Tehachapi  Chief,  and  dedicate  her 
talents  to  something  higher  than  the  opera." 

"  You  shall  do  it,  my  beautiful  Pocahontas, 
and  your  Chief  fully  appreciates  the  honor 
you  do  him,"  he  said,  kissing  her.  "We  will 
spend  our  honeymoon  in  the  mountain  camp 
by  the  Loop." 

"Oh,  won't  that  be  delightful?  And  can 
I  ride  Mexy?" 

"Yes,  you  shall  ride  Mexy,  if  he  is  still 
there,  and  we  will  get  some  saddle  horses  and 
ride  over  those  mountain  trails  and  canyons; 
we  will  go  to  the  top  of  Bear  Mountain  and 
through  Water  Canyon  and  up  and  down  that 
pass  from  Tehachapi  to  Caliente.  You  will 
enjoy  that  beautiful  and  picturesque  scenery. 
We  will  have  quail  on  toast  and  bear  steak, 
and  venison,  and  coyote  and  mountain  lion, 
and " 

"That  will  do,"  she  said,  "before  you  say 
horned  toads." 

"And  then,"  said  Richard,  "we  will  go  to 
our  home  among  the  roses  in  Los  Angeles — " 

"  Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go ;  and  where 


UP  THE   GRADE  399 

them  lodgest,  I  will  lodge,"  she  smilingly 
replied. 

He  saw  her  on  the  train  for  Black  Hawk 
Spring,  where  he  soon  joined  her.  When  he 
reached  there  this  time,  Annie  and  his  sister 
Bessie  met  him  at  the  train.  His  welcome 
by  the  Reese  family  was  like  that  of  a  son  and 
brother. 

His  mother  gave  him  a  letter  post-marked 
White  Wolf  Lake,  which  came  from  the 
Belden  farm  and  was  written  by  Maggie.  She 
said  that  Mr.  Belden  was  in  very  poor  health 
and  the  doctor  had  told  him  that  he  could 
not  live  long — that  he  wanted  to  see  Richard 
very  much,  and  she  asked  for  his  address. 

Mrs.  Williams  wrote  that  they  "expected 
him  soon"  and  she  was  sure  he  would  come 
out  and  see  them  very  soon  after  he  arrived. 

He  did  so,  and  found  Mr.  Belden  in  a  dying 
condition.  He  told  Richard  that  he  knew 
he  had  but  a  few  days  to  live.  Richard  tried 
to  drive  out  that  idea,  saying:  "0  Mr. 
Belden,  you  are  a  young  man  yet.  You  will 
get  better.  You  must  not  give  up  so  easily." 

"No,"  he  said,  "I  know  my  condition  per 
fectly.  The  doctor  knows  it.  I  have  nothing 


400  UP  THE   GRADE 

to  build  upon.  I  have  undermined  my  health 
by  years  of  bad  living  and  bad  thinking.  I 
have  no  hope  for  this  world  or  the  next.  1 
have  lived  for  what  I  could  get  out  of  this 
life  as  I  went  along.  I  have  drunk  of  its  so- 
called  pleasures  to  the  very  dregs.  Mine  has 
been  a  hollow  and  empty  life,  and  there  is  no 
light  ahead — nothing  but  regret — nothing  but 
regret.  There  is  no  hope  for  me.  This  little, 
blasted,  warped  and  shrivelled  soul  isn't 
worth  saving.  Of  all  the  mean  things  I  ever 
did — and  there  are  many — I  regret  none 
more  than  my  hatred  for  and  treatment  of 
your  mother.  I  sought  to  ruin  you  by  every 
means  in  my  power.  It  was  a  fight  between 
God  and  the  devil.  Your  mother's  prayers 
and  your  Chrisitan  integrity  saved  you.  If 
you  had  been  indifferent  to  the  things  of  God, 
you  would  have  been  an  easy  mark,  but  the 
devil  and  all  his  emissaries  cannot  prevail 
against  a  man  as  long  as  he  prays  and  believes. 
I  want  no  better  proof  that  there  is  a  God, 
who  watches  over  his  children,  than  I  have 
seen  in  your  case.  Ask  your  mother  to  for 
give  me,  and  do  so  yourself,  if  you  can." 
Before  Richard  had  a  chance  to  make  any 


UP  THE  GRADE  401 

reply,   the  doctor  came  and  said   that  the 
patient  must  be  kept  quiet. 

Richard  took  Mr.  Belden's  hand,  and  whis 
pered  :  "  Both  mother  and  I  will  pray  for  you. 
We  forgive  you  freely,  and  will  ask  the  good 
Lord  to  do  the  same." 

Mr.  Belden  smiled  and  said  good-bye.  He 
died  a  few  days  later. 

Richard  called  upon  Mr.  Yale.  He  found 
him  well  and  changed  but  little.  The  few 
hours  spent  together  were  very  pleasant  for 
both,  and  precious  to  Richard  as  he  looked 
back  upon  them.  He  learned  from  Mr.  Yale 
that  Doctor  Haskell  did  not  remain  long  at 
White  Wolf  Lake.  He  had  been  "called"  to 
another  fashionable  church,  where  he  was  no 
doubt  sowing  the  seeds  of  unbelief.  Mr.  Yale 
also  mentioned  that  Miss  Nettie  Jones  was 
engaged  to  a  young  business  man  at  the  Lake. 

The  time  flew  by  all  too  fast,  and  Richard 
soon  found  himself  back  in  the  sage  brush  of 
the  desert,  directing  the  work  in  his  depart 
ment.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Annie's 
collection  of  love  letters  increased  rapidly, 
and  that  they  were  entirely  satisfactory  as 
to  size  and  composition. 


402  UP  THE   GRADE 

The  time  came  when  Richard  felt  that  he 
had  waited  long  enough,  and  wrote  her  to 
that  effect.  She  answered  that  he  had  made 
ample  compensation  for  his  loss  of  time,  and 
consented  to  name  an  early  day. 

The  sun  shone  bright  on  their  wedding  day, 
and  the  invited  guests  met  at  the  white  house 
and  sat  down  to  a  dinner  such  as  the  good 
housewife  knows  how  to  provide.  Aftei  the 
dinner,  they  all  went  down  to  the  little  church, 
and  the  "Man  of  God"  said:  "Whom  God 
hath  joined  together  let  no  man  put  asunder. 
In  His  Name  I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife." 

Of  course,  Mr.  Yale  was  there — and  Uncle 
Nate  Green,  who  said  after  the  train  was  gone : 
"That  was  a  mity  purty  affair  all  round.  I 
never  seen  any  better  weddin'  than  that.  I 
g'es'  I  was  the  only  one  thar  'cept  the  fambly 
that  kissed  the  bride." 

The  happy  couple  stopped  at  San  Fran 
cisco  for  a  few  days,  and  visited  the  home  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Leslie.  There  they  were  intro 
duced  to  a  very  young  gentleman  by  the 
name  of  Richard  Leslie.  They  then  heard, 
for  the  first  time,  the  sad  news  of  the  sudden 
death  of  Mr.  Cloverdale,  which  had  occurred 


UP  THE  GRADE  403 

a  few  weeks  before,  by  accident.  This  cast 
a  gloom  over  their  visit  there,  but  their  coining 
did  much  to  divert  the  minds  of  the  mourning 
couple.  Mr.  Leslie  told  Richard  that  he  had 
resigned  his  position,  to  take  effect  at  the  end 
of  the  month,  as  the  family  desired  him  to 
take  charge  of  Mr.  Cloverdale's  affairs.  He 
showed  him  a  sheet  of  paper,  which  was  found 
on  Mr.  Cloverdale's  desk  in  his  private  office 
in  the  home,  where  he  often  spent  his  evenings, 
sometimes  working  well  into  the  night.  Upon 
it  was  written  in  his  own  uneven  hand  the 
following  words : 

"  If  I  could  recall  every  sharp,  hasty  word, 

That  has  given  to  others  pain, 
And  go  back  once  more  to  the  days  of  my  youth, 

And  live  my  life  over  again; 
More  softly  and  tender  the  words  from  my  lips, 

Like  love's  sweetest  incense  would  fall; 
My  dear  ones  no  more  would  remember  with  tears 

Those  words  which  I  fain  would  recall. 

"Perhaps  He  who  judges  from  his  throne  above, 
The  heart's  deepest  longings  can  see, 

Through  infinite  mercy,  compassion  and  love, 
Will  look  down  in  pity  on  me. 

I  know  that  'tis  little" 


404  UP  THE  GRADE 

He  left  it  unfinished  when  his  life  so  sud 
denly  went  out,  and  he  came  before  his  Judge 
just  as  he  was.  And  that  Judge,  dear  reader, 
is  neither  you  or  I.  His  life  was  one  of  little 
profession  and  large  deeds.  It  is  hard  to 
believe  that  such  a  life,  with  all  its  blots  and 
scars,  is  not  more  acceptable  than  one  of 
large  profession  and  little  deeds.  We  have 
not  much  time  to  speculate  over  the  fate  of 
others.  I  reckon  we  have  enough  to  attend 
to  at  home. 

They  visited  the  school  wherein  Richard 
put  in  so  many  hard  days'  work,  and  he  paid 
his  respects  and  introduced  his  wife  to  those, 
who  were  so  kind  and  helpful  to  him. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Watkins?  Oh,  yes,  they 
found  them,  too,  and  Mr.  Watkins,  though 
still  a  promoter,  had  "struck  it."  Some  of 
the  stock  which  he  had  acquired  for  his  ser 
vices  had  become  valuable,  and  they  were  in 
comfortable  circumstances.  He  wore  a  new 
Prince  Albert,  and  his  silk  hat  had  the  appear 
ance  of  being  brushed  the  right  way.  Who 
knows  but  the  strong  and  abiding  faith  and 
good  suggestions  of  his  wife  had  not  much  to 
do  with  his  success?  The  dear  soul  still 


UP  THE  GRADE  405 

believed  that  there  were  few,  if  any,  men  as 
"smart"  as  Mr.  Watkins. 

Richard  took  his  wife  around  to  the  little 
broom  shop,  simply  to  show  her  the  place. 
Not  having  heard  from  Donald,  he  supposed 
he  was  still  in  the  Highlands;  but  before  they 
reached  the  door,  he  heard  the  familiar  sound 
of  his  pounding  the  wire,  as  he  rolled  the 
broom  round  and  round.  And  there  on  his 
old  perch  sat  the  Highland  lassie,  the  bonnie 
Amy,  stitching  away,  sewing  brooms — true 
to  the  instincts  of  her  race,  "helping  alang." 

Richard  told  Donald  that  he  must  "not 
think  he  was  the  only  one  who  could  get  a 
wife."  The  work  in  that  shop  was  very 
quickly  brought  to  a  standstill.  Their  in 
vitation  to  go  home  with  them  was  gladly 
accepted,  and  their  cottage  home  was  found 
to  be  a  little  gem  of  neatness  and  comfort. 
Annie  put  on  a  big  apron  and  helped  get  the 
dinner  and  "do  up  the  work;"  and  they  went 
out  together  to  the  Golden  Gate. 

Richard  had  ordered  a  complete  new  tent 
and  camp  outfit  sent  to  the  Loop;  and  when 
they  arrived  there,  they  went  directly  to  the 
big  pine  by  the  spring.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomas 


406  UP  THE  GRADE 

had  had  the  tent  set  up  and  everything  in 
place. 

"Mexy"  was  there  to  welcome  them  with 
one  of  his  oriole  songs. 

The  board  was  still  on  the  tree  and  Richard's 
"  tribute  "  was  dimly  legible. 

We  know  of  no  better  place  to  leave  them 
than  among  the  leafy  bowers  and  shady 
canyons,  with  the  silent  mountains,  the  trees, 
birds  and  flowers,  the  only  witness  of  their 
bliss.  They  make  no  record  of  embraces 
and  kisses  and  tell  no  tales. 


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